


reunión familiar

by hillnerd



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-04-26 02:46:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14392641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hillnerd/pseuds/hillnerd
Summary: Percy meets Audrey during the reconstruction after the fall of Voldemort, both working in family reunification. He needs to work to repair much at the Ministry, as well as his relationships with his family.This explores how he handles time post-Hogwarts Battle. Percy/Audrey.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> tw: death ideation, death mentions, mild bad language

Percy stared at the stacks of papers ahead of him and felt a familiar pain start to form deep in his sockets. He took off his glasses and pressed his palms flat against his eyes.

He’d only been in this department for eight days, and already he was exhausted of it. Percy supposed it was much harder to be back at the Ministry because he’d hoped to be rid of it forever. Nine days ago he had resigned from the Ministry in the middle of a battle. Moments later his world had come apart. A shudder passed through him as he worked to keep himself from crying.

In the days after the battle, he tried to be there for his family in ways he hadn’t been for three years. He’d missed so much in those three years…

Even before he had betrayed the family for his bloody ambition, he had missed so much. He rejected them all the time. At Hogwarts his younger siblings invited him to sit with them at Hogwarts dinners and he’d reject them to spend more time with other prefects. They’d ask him to play Quidditch, and he’d stay in his room to write pompous love notes to Penelope. They’d ask him about a book he was reading and he’d snap at them to leave him alone. He would throw himself into grades, prefects, power, his job… And what did he gain from it? Nothing that meant anything. How could he have thought it meant so much?

Then he betrayed his family. He chose Cornelius Fucking Fudge and his personal pride, over his own wonderful family. He’d missed birthdays, the twins opening their shop, Bill coming back from Egypt. He could have been working with the Order and Dumbledore to save the world, but he decided it was better to serve a coward who helped let Voldemort gain traction for over a year. His father nearly died from a snake bite, and he didn’t so much as inquire about his health. Ron almost died from poisoning, and he didn’t send an owl or anything to his little brother. His eldest brother got mauled by a werewolf, and he didn’t check on him once. The whole family was there, and he wasn’t. For three years he could have been making memories them. He could have made memories with Fred… But he hadn’t. Now his brother was dead. Everything was wasted.

His parents were happy to have their son back, and accepted him as if nothing had happened at all. He didn’t deserve it. His mum had tried hundreds of times to reach out to him, and he rejected her every time. He was so cruel to his father as well. Yet there they were, hugging him, and smiling at him; the lost son returned. Not even treating it as if he had left of his own stupid accord.

Bill and Charlie were…polite. He had disappointed them so deeply, he was grateful they were even talking to him, let alone being kind. They would discuss funeral plans and more with him, made sure to include him whenever the siblings were doing something, invite him to sit down near them at meals. His younger brothers and sister though… They struggled to accept him, and he did not blame them.

Ron mostly ignored him, save the odd question asking where someone was, if there was no one else to ask. He and Ron had never been the closest: hell, no one had been close to Percy; but he and Ron had more memories of him being an overbearing big brother and Ron yelling back in protest, than happy memories. He supposed the happiest memories they shared, just the two of them, where when he taught Ron how to play chess. Ron was just five, but took to the game very quickly. Percy had always been quick to speak to Ron in a knowing way, giving advice, whether wanted or not. Now, he didn’t know what to say to Ron even if his presence were welcome. His little brother was now a war-weary hero, who had seen more combat than Percy ever had, or probably would, in his lifetime. What use could Percy ever be to him?

Ginny barely seemed recognizable to Percy, now. She’d gone from being an adorable chubby cheeked kid who was barely into her teens, to a beautiful young woman. He missed everything in between. She even was in a serious relationship with Harry now. She hadn’t said a word to Percy, hadn’t hugged him, and wouldn’t look at him. The few times she actually did look at Percy, he could see disdain and distrust evident in her fierce eyes. Seeing the little girl he’d used to hold as she cried, be so fiercely independent and distrusting of him, stung. There used to be such trust and love between them, but now? Percy had no idea how they could ever have that dynamic again.

Then there was George. The twins were the very first to forgive him when he came back during the battle. They may have teased him mercilessly as children, but they’d also always been the first to try and drag him out of his studying torpor to enjoy holidays, spend time with the family, and just enjoy life. He would always protest and scowl, but deep down Percy felt warmed by their overtures. Their eyes would crinkle and they’d give him one of their sly smiles, knowing they’d gotten to him. Now, the few times George looked at him, Percy just knew his brother was thinking ‘It should have been you who died.’

And it should have. Percy was right there next to Fred when he died. He wasn’t sure what caused fate to make the debris crush Fred instead of himself, but Percy wanted to curse it every day. If Percy had died, it would have been so much easier on everyone. He’d already hurt them, rejected them, been out of their lives- and they were fine without him. They’d grown up, found love, fought evil wizards, survived countless near-death experiences… And not once would his presence had made it better. Fred’s death, though, left a gaping wound in every single person’s heart. They would never be able to fully recover from his death… and Percy hated himself for it. If he had just moved slightly to the left, or fought Thicknese down a different corridor, or not made a joke that distracted Fred.

After the battle, Percy thought he’d never be back at the Ministry. For the first time in his life, he had no plan for his future at all, really. It all seemed a hopelessly foggy gray blank. Then Kingsley had approached him, asking for his help.

The Ministry was, predictably, in shambles. Percy was more aware of the obscure laws Thicknese and his ilk had put in place that made it difficult for travel by any Wizarding method. The Department of Magical Transportation had been gutted under Thickneses’s tenure. ‘Traitors’ were frequently jailed, and some even killed, for trying to assist muggleborns escape with portkeys or setting up secret floo subnetwork connections. Families throughout the UK had been torn apart. With the DMT in its current state, reunifying with loved ones was difficult. Many muggleborns weren’t even aware the war had ended, as they were avoiding all things magical in hopes of surviving.

When Kingsley had approached Percy, he’d come in person to the Burrow, as he had to speak with most of the family (along with Harry and Hermione) in one capacity or another to help with the Post-War Reconstruction. They were gathered round the table for dinner as Kingsley went over a number of issues with Dad, Bill, Charlie, Ron, Harry and Hermione, when suddenly he turned to Percy to ask a series of questions.

Percy had been silent at the table, and looked up from his food to answer, blushing a bit as he realized many eyes were on him.

That was when Kingsley asked Percy to be the main liaison and organizer for the DMT and international communications with various other departments. He noted how Percy was uniquely poised to be aware of a number of issues, and had the subsequent skills and experience to help speed along reunification efforts with families.

Percy looked around the table at the mention of reunifying families. A mix of questioning glances, penetrating looks, and one hard glare (from Ginny) met him. Percy was no use at home, so nodded and agreed to help in any capacity he could.

It was at times a painful undertaking. He would be arranging a portkey for a family, and they’d be aglow with happiness thinking they’d be united with all their loved ones. He’d list off who all was coming back and their faces would fall as they realized many of their family hadn’t made it. He’d have to look up names to see if their death had been listed by Snatchers, or if they were imprisoned, if they were alive but soulless due to a dementor. It was awful.

Percy gave a deep sniff a tried to refocus on his work. His inbox was consistently so full that he started keeping file boxes next to his desk, so he wouldn’t have to worry about the mounting papers falling over.

It was then that Percy heard a great laugh coming from the corridor outside his office. Percy wanted to hex whoever had the audacity to be laughing and happy in this wing of the Ministry. Most of the people here were in pain. Most people had the decency to be serious and wear black armbands throughout the ministry. As happy as people were the war was over, now was a time for mourning and rebuilding, not laughing so loud it echoed down the hallway.

He stuck his head outside his office door to see a woman laughing with a little boy, no more than five or so years old. She was tan with caramel colored hair, and was wearing a dress the color of Ron’s room. She also was making fart noises with the five year old. He giggled with glee and they nearly fell over with happiness. Percy felt some of his earlier ire dissipate. Maybe it wasn’t so terrible for someone to be able to laugh. He’d give anything to see George laugh again.

“So are you ready now, mijo?” she asked the little boy.

He nodded and took her hand as they stood and walked directly towards Percy.

The young woman looked shocked to see Percy standing in the doorway staring at them, but quickly fixed another smile on her face.

“Hi there, are you Percival Weasley?” she asked.

He blanched at the use of his full first name being used. As much as an uptight berk as he was, he never went by anything but Percy his entire life.

“I am,” he supplied opening the door wide to let her and the little boy in.

He was used to random people needing him, and had not bothered to check his appointment schedule. He’d normally check them off as soon as they arrived.

“I’m Audrey Morales, and this–” she said pushing the small boy forward a bit, “is Milo.”

The boy who had been laughing so heartily earlier, now wore a shuddered look as he eyed Percy. Percy was rather tall and unapproachable, he knew, so he did his best to smile in a congenial way so as not to intimidate the boy.

“Hi Milo,” he said stooping a bit.

The boy glared at him.

“Say hi, Milo,” she said with a gentle poke.

“Hullo,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes, going behind the desk and sitting in Percy’s chair. The woman said nothing to stop the child from such behavior. Milo looked quite at home as he found some blank parchment and a pencil Percy’s dad had given him. The child began to draw as if this was normal. Percy wasn’t around kids much, but he’d never seen such a weirdly independent child in his life.

Percy internally debate with himself, before he sat in front of his desk and indicated the chair next to him for Audrey. He eyed the woman and boy for a moment. He supposed they were mother and son, though she looked a bit too young to have a child that age. She must have had him straight out of Hogwarts, or wherever she went to school. Perhaps that was why her child was so undisciplined. Percy definitely didn’t recognize her.

“How can I help Mrs Morales?”

“What? Oh no, I’m not married!” she said, making a face. Young and unmarried with a five year old… Percy tried his best to look non-judgemental at that.

“And you can just call me Audrey. Everyone does.”

Percy nodded, hoping she’d get down to business. As they’d spoken many more parchments had arrived in his inboxes. He reached across his own table and grabbed his appointment book. The was no appointment scheduled for Audrey, nor anyone else booked for at least an hour.

“Did you make an appointment with me? I’m not seeing it on the schedule.”

“No, I decided to skip that and just come here,” she said, looking a bit irritated with him.

“Well… You need to make an appointment for me to help you. I’m very busy right now, and–”

“You don’t look very busy to me,” she supplied, looking around his office with an impertinent shrug.

Percy sat up straight, feeling put out.

“It might not look busy, but I have a lot of paperwork to get through, and there’s a line of people who need to be seen. It’s scheduled out so we can most efficiently have their cases handled. If everyone just randomly showed up at people’s offices with no appointments, then it’d be chaos. And I think we’ve all had enough of chaos, don’t you agree Miss Morales?”

“I’m not leaving this office until you help us,” she said fiercely, giving his table a kick.

“Please just make an appointment,” he said, rubbing at his right eye socket. “I don’t want to escort you and your son out, but I will if I must.”

“I’m not her son,” Milo said rather loudly, giving Percy a hearty glare. “I’m here for my mum and dad. You’re supposed to help. Audrey said so, right Audrey?”

“That’s right,” she said.

“Look, I’d love to help, but you need an appointment first. Go to the–”

“I know where to go. I’ve been there already. I’ve been everywhere already.”

“He’s not going to help. No one helps,” said Milo, looking a bit less angry, and more sad. His little face screwed up and began to color.

“Pobrecito,” she murmured, reaching across the table to hold Milo’s hand. “Nice one, Percival.”

“It’s Percy, and the rules state you need an appointment.”

“Screw the rules!” she said rather loudly, pulling back from Milo to wag a finger at Percy. “No! I have been sent back and forth around this ministry for days now, trying to get Milo the help he needs, and no one is helping. For some reason, people seem to think you’re the person to talk to, but the wait is weeks, and this little boy has waited long enough. He hasn’t had either of his parents for eight months. Are you really going to make him wait now that the Ministry will help him find his family?”

Percy sighed.

“This is… I’m not supposed to,” Percy said. He looked between the glaring woman’s hazel eyes, and the little boy. He had never broken a rule in his life. Well, he had, but never anything severe. Now was as good a time as any, he supposed. He falteringly rose and spelled a ‘do not disturb’ sign on the front of his door, before shutting the door.

He turned back to them and gave a sigh.

“Alright, I’ll do what I can.”

The fierce look immediately fled from her face, and Audrey let out a whoop before hugging Percy around his middle.

“Thank you so much! You hear that Milo?”

Milo didn’t look happy. He looked wary. The look on his face reminded him of the glares Ginny was giving him. Audrey was still firmly gripping him in a hug, as she air-kissed his cheeks.

Percy stiffly removed himself from Audrey’s grasp. Her emotions turning on a dime left him dizzy.

“You can’t tell anyone I helped you out of turn.”

“Of course.”

“I mean it. If you start telling other people, then before you know it my office will be swarmed with people.”

“I understand.”

“It goes against the rules, so if you tell anyone–”

“¡Ay, ya! ¡Entiendo!” she let out. “I know! Percy, I know. I’m not trying to ruin your career or whatever. I’m just trying to help this little boy, then you’ll never have to speak to me again. Well, you will, because I have more cases I’ll be bringing you, but this is the only one that needs to be handled out of turn. I swear.”

Percy nodded, before a question sprung to mind. “Wait… More cases you’ll be bringing in?”

“Yes. I’m a caseworker for reunification of families, particularly, children and their parents. I was tired of the stupid bureaucratic red tape keeping Milo from seeing any progress. You’ll be seeing a whole lot of me.”

Percy wasn’t so sure he wanted to see a lot of Audrey Morales. She didn’t look or act like any case worker he had met. She looked more ready to go to the beach than be in an office advocating for people going through the most painful experiences of their lives. She also didn’t seem to have much respect for rules and regulations. He hoped she wouldn’t bring Milo next time, as the child was disturbing.

“Well, let’s get to work!” she said, taking Percy and shoving him towards his desk. “We have some ice cream to eat, and a video game arcade to get to, right Milo?”

“Right!” Milo called back.

“Right,” Percy replied, feeling cross. Not everyone had time ice cream and whatever games she was talking about. He didn’t have time for such leisure, and wondered how she had the audacity to to demand his time on her schedule, when Percy’s was swamped in horror stories and paperwork. Ah well, he had said he’d help, and Percy was anything but a liar. Maybe he could convince someone else to take her future cases. She was pretty enough that he knew a few young men in the department who would be happy to take her off his hands. It was too bad she was such a vexation, for Percy didn’t get a chance to see many pretty witches in the Ministry anymore.

“Nice work, Milo!” said Audrey, ripping Percy from his reverie. Milo was looking intently at the drawing he was making. Percy looked at it to see it was a stick figure with freckles and glasses, making an ugly frown.

“I think he really captured your expression, don’t you?” asked Audrey, looking far too amused.

No. He definitely didn’t want to see a lot of her, not matter how pretty she was.


	2. Chapter 2

It hadn't been a good day at The Burrow. After the war ended, there were no 'good days' anywhere as far as Percy was concerned, but at the Burrow there were now 'good days' and 'bad days'. Good days meant no one was crying, there was no fighting, and there was no ongoing emergency. Bad days promised someone was having the equivalent of a break down and almost certainly

Bill and Charlie seemed to be the elected harbingers of 'days,' and would inform Percy as to what sort of day they had on their hands as soon as he got there.

"Not having a good day," Bill said as soon as Percy opened the kitchen door. Even with the scars covering his face, Bill managed to cut a picture as he casually leaned against the wall, arms crossed as he kept a serveyance of the scene. Ron Harry and Hermione were quietly busying themselves in the kitchen, Ron at the stove, Hermione putting out dishes, Harry at the cutting board.

Percy could hear the strangled sounds of crying coming from the sitting room. He leaned his head Mum sobbing on the couch held by Charlie, Ginny at her other side, patting her shoulder.

He turned to discreetly ask Bill what had happened, but instead came eye to eye with Ron. He had abandoned his cooking and was advancing towards Percy, his eyebrows drawn in a deep scowl. Hermione nervously reached out to grab at Ron, but Harry quietly put a staying hand out to keep her from interfering. Ron forcefully seized Percy by the arm, and frog-marched him straight past Bill to the back yard.

"What's going on?" Percy asked, rubbing his arm where he had been painfully grabbed, sure there would be bruises to contend with later.

Percy had never felt intimidated by his little brother in the past, but now he felt an unfamiliar timerity blossom within him. His little brother threateningly loomed over him, a battle-hardened sureness in his stance. Inches taller than Percy, with a collection of swirling scars up and down his arms. When had he gotten those? He hadn't really taken in the transformation in his brother, as was not as dramatic as Ginny's from girl to young woman, but now Percy couldn't escape it. He was struck by how much his brother had changed. His brother may only have been eighteen, but at that moment he seemed every inch a fully grown man.

"Mum's upset and last thing she needs right now is you in there," said Ron gruffly.

Percy mutely nodded in understanding. Of course he was the last person they needed or wanted around. He did not know what had happened to make their mum cry, but knew his presence couldn't possibly be a help.

This was the first time Ron had really spoken to him in three years, and Percy felt a pulsing numbness take hold of his head, similar to the feeling of drinking too much caffeine on an empty stomach.

"I'll… I'll go then," Percy said, turning to walk back to the Apparition point. He was immediately grabbed again and spun about on his axis by Ron.

"Well don't leave the Burrow, you prat! That'll make it even worse!" said Ron with a roll of his eyes. Percy didn't understand, and his confusion must have shown on his face, for Ron continued to speak.

"George is holed up in some Muggle hotel and doesn't want to see any of us," he explained, hard expression softening by a mild fraction. "He's saying he's never coming back to the Wizarding world. Mum's afraid he's pulling the same move you did three years ago, and she's having a meltdown. I figured it'd be best for you to come in later once she's had a cry of it."

Percy silently nodded again. His throat felt too thick to make a proper answer, as the familiar shame washed over him, thinking of what all he had put his mother through the past few years.

It was strange for Percy to find himself wordless. He was used to have nothing but words around his family. Self important effusions came easily to his lips, but now… Now he just hoped not to say anything to disturb the tenuous peace they had.

"Look," said Ron is a much quieter voice, looking much more like the unsure but amiable little brother Percy was used to. "You may have messed up, but you came back. You're here now. That- that's worth something, isn't it?"

"It's worth a lot," provided Bill from the door. Bill and Ron held each other's eyes, and a silent understanding seemed to pass between them. Whatever their understanding was, Percy was not privy to it in the least. Ron had an closed expression on his face as he walked towards Bill and received a firm grip of comraderie on his shoulder. Without another word Ron went back inside the house, as if Percy weren't there at all.

"You alright?" asked Bill as he closed the door behind him.

Percy's face twitched in mild annoyance.

"Ok, stupid question," said Bill, motioning for Percy to join him for a walk toward the orchard. The field was marred with ugly scorch marks, left behind by Death Eaters who had attacked the Burrow a few months prior. It had taken five days for them to sort out the house and make it safe for everyone to return, but Percy supposed they would be finding evidence of the attack on their property for a long time, given no one had the energy to do more than check it for curses and reinforce wards.

The orchard had always been a favorite play spot for the Weasley children, and it was difficult seeing it ravaged like this. The Quidditch Hoops had been torn down and there was a hole blasted in the Twin's tree house they'd built. Many of the old trees Percy had read under were uprooted and graffitied with nasty messages about their family.

"It's been a while since we walked down here," Bill said mildly. He surveyed the damage with a grim look that belied his easy going tone. "Want to help me fix this up?"

Percy nodded his assent. He supposed that's all he knew how to do with his family now: Nod.

They set to work, spelling away burnt wood and grass as they came to it. Percy took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves so he could climb the tree and fix the hole in the side of the twins' treehouse as best he could. The floor of the treehouse was littered with long forgotten momentos of childhood. On the floor were faded chocolate frog cards, worn stuffed animals, scraps of paper with his brother's familiar scrawls, and a broken set of binoculars.

He glanced up at the wall and felt an intermingling of joy and grief. On the wall was a pair of handprints that had been put there with ink. Underneath was written 'Gred and Forge Forever! Finks stay out!' The handprints his brothers had decorated the inside of the house with were thankfully intact. Percy put his own much larger hand up beside them, taking a moment to blink away the tears that threatened to take over his vision.

Once his vision had cleared, he withdrew from the treehouse and helped Bill erected two of the three wooden Quidditch Goals his father had made them so many years ago. One was too splintered to fix properly, so Percy put it on his long list repairs he'd see to later. His siblings might want to play a game of Quidditch soon, and he couldn't let them go without three goal posts.

"That looks better," said Bill with a smile, looking around the pitch.

"Yeah, it does."

"Thanks for helping me, Perce. Definitely couldn't have done it without you."

Percy snorted at that. "You could have done it with anyone, but I appreciate you saying that."

"You were here doing the hard work when no one else was. Someone else could have come in your place, but they didn't need to because you volunteered. Like Ron said, being here counts for something."

He looked over to Bill, who picked up a long pussy willow branch and lazily grazed it across the long grass as they walked down the lane, in a well practiced way. Percy mind was brought back to their childhood walks, where all seven siblings would walk to the orchard on lazy summer days.

Bill would watch after them all, and Percy would try to imitate their eldest brother, reinforcing any rules or mild chastisements Bill gave them. Where Bill could manage them all with ease, Percy struggled to be taken seriously. He was third oldest and, in his mind, much more responsible than Charlie was; yet they still would ignore him. Looking back, Percy realized how he was prone to suck the fun right out of a situation by bringing it to a screeching halt, while Bill could effortlessly let the fun continue, just managing to keep things from getting out of hand. Percy envied Bill in many ways. Bill was self confident, well liked, a natural leader, and more; but his ability to easily have everyone's respect was what Percy envied most.

Percy's motivation had always been to earn the respect of others. He felt entitled to deference from others, but now, Percy held little respect for himself, and doubted he'd ever have anyone's respect again. He respected his raw skills, of course, but as far as who he was as a person? Percy had severe doubts about his worth.

Percy constantly roiled with unease and self criticism. This wasn't anything new, really, as he'd been that way as long as he could remember. He was critical of everyone else, but few realized Percy reflected that same perfectionism towards himself. He projected confidence, and even felt it much of the time, but deep down it always felt hollow and fragile.

With the exception of Ron, the rest of his siblings seemed to have nothing but deeply founded confidence. None of them ever listened to Percy or seemed to need him, but in Ron he saw the potential to help a sibling who actually might appreciate it. After all, Ron wasn't wild like the twins, wasn't independent like Ginny, wasn't self-assured like Bill, and wasn't a free spirit like Charlie. Ron had ambition and wanted to stand out somehow, like Percy did- he just needed the right encouragement, or so Percy liked to think. He supposed that was why he tried to reach out to Ron three years ago in that silly letter. In his letter he had unctuously praised the ministry, put Harry, of all people on blast, and tried to persuade Ron to 'see the light' on Dumbledore.

He had set an example Ron could follow. He too was unsure of himself, intimidated, and had a thirst to prove himself. Their siblings were all confident, but Percy was accomplished. He'd done all that Bill had done, and so much more. He just knew Ron would want to follow after him, seeing how Percy had gotten further up in the Ministry than their own father ever managed, in just two years! Looking back on his letter, Percy felt his cheeks color. The gall of him, thinking he was an example to anyone… What a perfect fool he'd been.

Percy had thought he was an example for Ron, when in the end, Ron was the example Percy should have followed. Ron remained loyal to the most deserving people and causes. He was braver than anyone in the family starting at age eleven. At eleven Percy would never have pulled half the brave stunts his brother did. Hell, at twenty one he didn't have the gall to break rules and save others like Ron had as a mere child. His brother had been in more battles than any of them, now, which was shocking to consider, and was poised to be awarded multiple times in honor of his contributions to the downfall of Voldemort.

How had Percy not recognized his brother was more of a stand out than any of them year ago? For that matter, how had no on one in the family realized this? He and Ron had always been the two brothers everyone picked on, but where Percy was recognized as 'the smart accomplished one' Ron and his multitude of accomplishments always seemed to be ignored, somehow. Ron had been able to surpass all of the Weasley siblings for years. While they were doing silly things like being prefects, or Quidditch stars- Ron did those, but also battled Death Eaters, defeated giant chess boards, faced down wild acromantulas with a broken wand, saved his friends countless times, and sacrificed so much... and had never been recognized for it. Percy didn't know how Ron came to have his arms covered in scars, but he was certain it was from one of his little brother's annual deadly battles.

Ron was scarred all over from his heroics, just like the rest of his siblings. Even Ginny had a few scars from her time at Hogwarts this last year, leading little rebellions where they could. Percy was the only one to make it to the other side of the war without even a papercut to show for it. His unscathed body was a testament to his cowardice. None were more scarred than Bill, though.

Bill and he sat beneath an apple tree and watch the wind blow the flowering branches, sitting in amicable silence. Out of the corner of his eye he studied his older brother's face. Despite the gnarled pieces of fleshy scars across Bill's face, he still managed to be the same confident man as before. His good looks were somehow able to come through the scars as well.

Over a year ago, Percy received word of Fenrir Greyback's attack in a letter from Mum. He knew Dumbledore had been killed already, as that news was all over the Ministry within thirty minutes of it happening, but no one had bothered to mention his brother had been mauled. Percy didn't visit him once in the hospital, and had not deigned to look at his family during Dumbledore's funeral. Out of his periphery he could see Bill was bandaged up, but he imagined his mother had just been exaggerating the severity of it all in order to lure Percy back into the family.

Not until the Battle of Hogwarts did he see the extent of the damage that blasted werewolf had done to Bill. When Percy had crawled through the portrait hole into Hogwarts, seeing his brother's face had been a shock. He wanted to stare and stare, but knew it would be rude to do so. Bill had always been known as 'the handsome one' of the brothers, so seeing the deep scars he'd only heard about from others was jarring. From certain angles and in certain lights it didn't look that bad, but straight on, one could see how there was hardly any symmetry left in Bill's face. When he smiled, only half of his face really complied all the way, while the other puckered and stretched oddly around the deep gash-like scars, his eye not being able to squint to the same degree the other did. Percy supposed there was some sort of nerve damage there, but hadn't tried to pry into it. Then the battle had commenced, and there was no time to stop and stare at anything until the fighting had stopped, and all that lay before Percy was Fred's body. It was all his fault. He could have saved his little brother. He could have, but he didn't. He'd failed, utterly.

"Let's head back," Percy heard. An arm was around his shoulder. Numbly Percy followed Bill, walking back towards the house in silence. Fred used to laugh and run alongside George in that field. And over there he had gather frog spawn he put in Charlie's juice. And there he had thrown Parsnips at Percy in the middle of Christmas holidays. And that was the last time Percy would ever see his brother in their childhood home again. Percy felt his chest constrict and stopped mid stride.

Bill looked over at him curiously, but said nothing.

"I should have- I should have been there for… It's all my fault that-"

"It's fine," said Bill, not understanding.

"I let Fr- I let my brother…" Percy couldn't say aloud what he wanted. He couldn't say anything about Fred outloud. Somehow it made it more real and terrible to say it outloud. Bill was watching him, an unreadable look on his face. "I let you all down. I've been a horrible brother. I didn't visit you at hospital, or go to your wedding."

"Perce, you really don't need to..." said Bill holding up a hand.

"I really do! I was so stupid and I- "

"Percy, stop it!" Bill snapped. Percy's mouth immediately bit shut so tightly he thought words might never escape his mouth again. Bill never lost his temper. Percy was almost relieved to have someone acknowledge his wretchedness like this.

Bill gave a deep sigh before continuing in his usual calm tone.

"I don't want your apologies, and honestly, I doubt anyone else much wants them either. There's no point. I know you're sorry. You said so when you came back. I get it might be cathartic for you, but for me... I'd rather not get into it."

With these words Percy was somehow wrenched from his tumultuous thoughts and brought directly into the present. Percy ached to go into it all, speak aloud all the thoughts he had swirling about in his mind, but in this he daren't hope for catharsis or relief. He wanted to state every one of his failures and have Bill acknowledge each one, fill him in on everything he missed with much more detail, and berate him for each one. Percy wanted to be raked through the coals for all his sins. He glanced at Bill and saw his older brother looked tired and wary. Percy felt a different sort of shame well up in him. Bill was right- being punished by everyone would be a relief, as the world hadn't seen fit to punish him at all. It wasn't about what Percy wanted, though, as Bill and his family were the aggrieved parties.

This would have to be his punishment. To never have this properly addressed. He'd have to hold this in his heart- the guilt, the shame, the lost moments- and have to survive it all with the mark of coward and traitor branded on his soul.

Percy almost snorted at how melodramatic he was becoming… It was melodrama his family neither wanted nor needed in their lives.

So Percy nodded, feeling a twitch of pain behind his eye. He would silently nod, swallow every selfish inclination he had, and keep showing up to family affairs.

Dad came out of his shed as they approached, eyes red.

"Hi boys," he said with a tight smile. He'd obviously been crying a bit, but no one was going to say anything. This happened on and off with everyone, really. They'd cry in privacy, come out with red watery eyes, and they'd all politely ignore it, beyond a one armed hug or hard clap on the shoulder.

They went inside, and it was clear the the feeling within the house had altered considerably. The food was laid out, Mum was red eyed but cheery, and everyone was taking their place around the table to enjoy the chicken, vegetables and rolls Ron and his friends had set out.

Percy quietly kept his head down as the rest of the table talked about their ongoing projects. The 'trio' and Ginny had been at Hogwarts helping with the reconstruction, Harry frequently being pressured to do press, but avoided it the best he could. Charlie had also been at Hogwarts, helping with the assortment of wild creatures and spiders that needed rounding up. Dad had been working hard with Muggle authorities to establish better relations and rebuild within the ministry. Bill had been using his services on a variety of residences to make sure they were safe for inhabitants to return to them. Mum had been making care packages for the displaced families, who didn't have anything to their name.

"Percy, what has it been like with the families you've been helping?" asked Mum.

Percy roughly swallowed the bite he'd been working at, and looked around the table. Luckily most of the table was caught up in their own conversations, so he did not have much of an audience.

"It's been difficult, at times…" Percy began. He didn't know how to go into it without bringing up painful stories of death and split families that might upset his mother. "There's a lot of chaos and it's hard seeing… well, it's not very easy to organize it all."

"I'm sure you're doing a wonderful job," Mum said warmly, beaming at him as she always did.

"Adequate enough," Percy said dully.

"Still, you get to help bring families together. That's so important."

Anymore, families that could easily be reunified were already unified, or very close to it. Now it was the difficult cases he was left with. These cases all seemed to blend together, one grieving family after another, torn to pieces by a horrible war. The only standout case he could think of was Audrey Morales's.

"I met a most unusual case worker the other day," said Percy.

"Oh? Someone I know?" asked Dad.

"Her name is Audrey Morales."

"I think I've heard that name," said Dad. "Is she the one who was helping smuggle Muggleborn children during the war?"

"I don't know. It definitely sounds like something she'd be capable of. She's unlike any case worker I've met before. Any government worker, really. She's quite sentimental and passionate, while most in that line of work have a more clinical approach. You should have heard her spouting off about how much she hates rules, bilines, and procedures in general."

"Sounds like she's the opposite of you, Perce," said Charlie with a laugh. Percy silently agreed, but didn't want to give Charlie the satisfaction.

"So what sort of case did she bring you, if you can say," Mum asked, shooting Charlie a warning look that cowed him.

"I normally would keep it quiet, but this one I'll need all the help I can get. Morales has a case with a little boy who doesn't know his last name, and his parents are missing. She brought him into my office the other day, and we're trying to make sense of it all. His parents were both Muggleborn, so when they had to go on the run, they left him with a family friend to keep him safe, but the Muggle friend died in a freak car crash. He was in Muggle foster care until he started doing accidental magic. Morales somehow was the one to get him, so he was safe. We don't even know if his parents are alive or not."

"What happens to the children without parents?" Harry suddenly asked. Percy had not realized he'd been listening. Perhaps he shouldn't have talked about orphaned children in front of Harry. The boy had already done so much for everyone. He didn't need another burden to think about.

"Well, we have children's homes in place for orphaned, abandoned or in-need magical children," Percy explained. "They're underfunded at the best of times, but right now they're quite overrun. Many of the children might have relatives of some sort we can get them to, but that requires investigators, case workers and more. We're obviously shorthanded on those, since the Auror and Hit Wizard departments have been rather gutted during the last year, and those who remain are most focused on rounding up the last of the Death Eaters and training new recruits."

"Is there any way I can help?" asked Harry, his green eyes boring into Percy's with such intensity he had to look away.

"I'm sure there's some way."

"Would any pressure from me help?" Percy knew Harry was loathe to throw around his power as a celebrity, and such a statement was a testament to how much this issue meant to him.

"I don't know who would be best to - ah - approach. But I'm sure it couldn't hurt if they heard from you. All the children's programs are underfunded and it's not high on the priority list compared to other issues."

"Is there someone within the child welfare office we could talk to about this?" asked Ginny, putting a hand on Harry's. It was the first time she had actually spoken to Percy in years.

"I'll talk to Miss Morales. I'm sure she'll know who to put pressure on," said Percy, smiling a bit at the thought of Audrey and how she and Milo had taken over his office in a matter of minutes. She might have been annoying at times, but he had to admit,she was knowledgeable. He knew she'd be more than happy to hear that The Harry Potter wanted to help the children she so passionately advocated for.

By the end of the night Percy was tired, but feeling buoyant in spirits for the first time in years. Ginny had asked some questions along with Harry about Milo and Audrey, and he was happy to regale them with as much information as he could. Anything to keep Ginny talking to him. She even laughed when he described Milo taking over his desk and drawing him. Percy was not used to being laughed with instead of at, and it was a welcome aberration. He was sure it would not repeat itself, but he welcomed this event all the same. Harry and Ginny had made it clear they wanted to be highly involved helping the displaced children, and Percy would do his best to make that happen.

The next morning Percy went in to work with a strange feeling of imperviousness. Nothing would be able to ruin his day, no matter how horrible. He was able to quickly work through a whole box of files, arranging portkeys and international paperwork at a rapid pace he'd not been able to reach before. He had been on such a roll that his normal lunch break was nearly over before he realized it. A sudden idea burst into his mind, making him smile. He opened his rolodex and found the card he'd been handed with ease, as it was filed away perfectly under 'M.' Memorizing the address, he grabbed his robe and apparated. With a quiet pop he arrived before theshiny new looking Magical Child Welfare office sign. He'd never been there before, and had not known what to expect.

Unlike other offices, this one was far away from the ministry, hidden behind a great deal of tall trees and shrubbery in the borough of Merton, with a notice-me-not charm for Muggles to avoid it. The building was not an austere office building, but a charming looking regency cottage, painted a cheerful, if faded, yellow, with a large number of vines climbing the sides.

In the yard were children playing with worn toys, an old wobbly looking playscape to the side with a few brave souls trying to climb it.

Most of the children were looked after by older children, much like Percy's family had done. There was one tiny older woman looking after them all from the porch. She wore thick glasses that magnified her eyes to such a degree that she more resembled an owl than a person. Kids of every age ran about, letting out whoops of laughter, some nearly trampling Percy as he walked up the path. Some of the children looked a bit thin and worn, their clothes looking like the most ragged of hand-me downs you wouldn't even see on a Weasley. Despite this, the children were all impeccably clean, their hair all meticulously looked after. Most of the girls had their hair in tight braids with bright ribbons in their hair. There was a pleasant air about the place. One tiny boy sucking his thumb and dragging a blanket behind him, ran into Percy's knee at a funny angle, making Percy let out an undignified yelp.

"Are you alright?" Percy asked the tot, who still had a thumb stuck in his mouth. A boy around eleven with pale blue eyes quickly came over to them

"Sorry about my brother, Mister…"

"Mister Weasley. But you can call me Percy."

"I'm Maximillian- but they call me Milli. Say excuse me, Donny," the boy admonished his little brother. Percy was reminded sharply of himself. Milli's little brother seemed to mind him just about as well as Percy's younger siblings had listened to him.

"R'you a wizard?" asked Donny, barely removing his thumb from his mouth to speak.

"Yes," Percy answered. He'd never been asked that question before. The little boy looked darkly at Percy and firmly shut his mouth around his thumb.

"You've got to apologize," said Milli.

"Won't!"

"It's rude not to."

"I won't, Milli, I WON'T!" Donny yelled, balling up his chubby little fists.

"Just say 'sorry,' real quick like."

Donny's little face turned red and before Percy knew it there was a blast that looked like ash, and he was pushed back from the boy so hard he skidded across the lawn a few meters, before losing his footing and landing in an undignified heap.

"Now you've done it!" the older boy snapped at his younger brother before running to Percy's side. The owl-eyed woman came bustling over as well. Donny began to cry.

"Mr Weasley, we're sorry," said the owl-eyed woman as she gave the wailing Donny a once over, before bustling over to Percy.

"E's been showin' all sorts of accidental magic since they brought 'em in," she said in a stage whisper.

"I'm really working with him. You don't need to send us away. He'll be good," said Milli soberly.

Percy looked to the old woman. Surely the children wouldn't have to be sent off due to a bit of accidental magic.

"Milli, we told you. You both 'ave a home right 'ere as long as you need."

The boy didn't look mollified, but quietly nodded before going to collect his still bawling brother.

"Poor things," she tsked. "Those two 'ave been through so much, I tell you. Mind, most o' these children 'ave seen worse than they should. Bless me, I didn' even ask! Can I direct you somewhere? Are you lookin' for someone?"

"I was looking for Miss Audrey Morales," said Percy, he said with a smile. Audrey had shown up unannounced at his office, so it was only fair he do the same.

"Miss Audrey will be just inside," she said nodding towards the house, before scampering after the brothers to check on them.

The inside of the house turned office, it was every bit as busy at the outside. A large sitting room with a fireplace had been converted into a busy office. In the back of the room at the largest desk he spied Audrey. Her area was swarmed with paperwork flying around, children bobbing between desks, and she seemed to effortlessly flit between her paperwork, seeing to children, and answering questions. She had a small contingency of coworkers who looked every bit as busy as she.

To her right was Milo, continuing to be her shadow. He quietly worked on a book of stickers and crafts by her side, looking as serious as if he were another employee.

Percy suddenly felt a bit silly showing up as he had. He now understood why Audrey had dismissed him when he had bemoaned how busy he was in his office. She had just as much paperwork as he, but also was juggling actual child minding and a chaotic environment quite different from Percy's relatively quiet office. Despite looking harried, Audrey managed to be wonderful with the children and managing so many people. She looked too young to be the one in charge of everything, but she clearly was, as everyone kept going to her to answer questions. One of her male coworkers said something that made Audrey throw her head back in laughter. Percy wished he could make people laugh like that. Her laugh was every bit as loud as it had been the day he met her, but here it didn't stand out as an aberration like it had in the cold halls of the ministry; instead it seemed to enhance the ambiance. He wasn't sure how long he'd been silently watching her, but he was startled when a hand landed on his arm.

The owl-eyed woman was standing before him expectantly. Apparently she had asked a question.

"Pardon?"

"I asked if you were able to find Audrey. She's the one at the back of the office."

"Yes, she- ah, she looks busy. I shouldn't have come without an appointment," he said backing towards the door.

"Oh nonsense. You came all this way," she said, before calling across the room, "Audrey, you have a visitor!"

Audrey immediately looked up from her papers she was leaning over, and Percy felt himself begin to flush. Audrey looked surprised, but gave a smile that warmed him.

"Look who it is, Milo!" she crowed. Milo didn't look up from his workbook other than a quick glance. She batted a few documents out of her way and made her way towards him.

"I didn't expect to see you here, Percival. Did you make an appointment?" she teased him.

"No, I decided to skip the bureaucratic red tape and just show up," Percy retorted. Her mouth seems to twitch a bit in an amused way. "I came to talk to you, in confidence if possible, about a way to help with a few of your cases."

"Well, as you can see it's very busy. Perhaps you can come another day?" she said, guiding him to the door. He was about to ask when to make an appointment when man who had made her laugh said:

"You haven't eaten yet. Maybe you two can discuss this over lunch?"

The young man looked highly amused as Audrey gave him a withering glare. He pushed some some of his short dreadlocks out of his eyes and laughed at her, an unsaid joke hanging in the air, that Percy knew he wasn't in on.

"I'm sure Mister Weasley wouldn't want to do that, Obasi. It'd be highly irregular," Audrey said politely.

"I don't mind," Percy heard himself say. What was he doing? "I haven't eaten either."

"Ah, a pair of workaholics who don't eat until forced to! Match made in heaven," Obasi said with a laugh.

Audrey looked around the room, and spied Milo.

"Milo. I can't leave Milo alone while we-"

"Ah, I got him," said Obasi with a wave of his hand. "Isn't that right, my man?"

Milo nodded, and the two bumped their fists together.

"Well then..." Audrey said, turning to Percy with a smile. "I'd be happy to have lunch with you."

Percy was fairly certain she didn't want to have lunch with him at all, but it was too late to back out now. Yesterday hadn't been a good day at the Burrow, and he was fairly certain his good day was soon to become a bad one, forcing Audrey to sit through a meal with him. He swallowed his disappointment and followed her out the door, a familiar hollowness taking over him. He'd go through the motions, finish this up as quickly as he did every other task, and do his best to ignore how fetching Audrey Morales looked in another of her floaty brightly colored dressed.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

 

Percy followed Audrey across the lawn, feeling suddenly very lumbering and out of place, for she seemed to float along and greet every child and caretaker. She knew the name of every single child, and even had some try to call her over to play with them. She gave one of her exuberant laughs as she turned them down, but promised she’d definitely spend time with them later. The very air seemed to warm around her as she gaily laughed and continued across the lawn.

They reached the edge of the property and she turned around and gave an appraising look over Percy. 

“Did you have a place in mind for our meeting?” she asked.

 “Well, I had thought our meeting was going to take place in your office, so no. Did you want to apparate somewhere? We could eat at the Ministry’s cafe. Are you familiar with it?”

 Audrey made a face.

 “I’m familiar. Why in the world would I want to eat there? They have the worst food I’ve ever eaten,” she said with certainty.

 “What’s so wrong with the food there?” Percy had never found anything all that wrong with their food, and didn’t understand why she was so vehement in her dislike.

 “Flavorless whitebread cafeteria sandwiches and limp day-old salads. You can’t possibly think that’s good food!” she said, obviously appalled.

 “They have good soup on Thursdays.”

 She made a face of horror. “You eat there every day, don’t you?”

 Percy felt his ears turn pink.

 “You do!” she laughed, practically pointing at him. “Haha–  Oh no… No. We’re not going there.”

 She said, disappearing beyond the sign and hedges so quickly he had no idea which direction she had gone. Perhaps she had apparated away to avoid him completely.  Percy put his hands in his pockets.

 “Come on!” she said, suddenly appearing in front of him between two overgrown shrubs, waving for him to follow her. He quickly trailed her, robe still draped over his arm.

 “We’re going past the Apparition point,” he said, following her as she started to stomp through a thicket of brambles that seemed to magically avoid attaching themselves to her, while catching and tearing at the hem of his trousers with every step.

 “I know that. We’re not apparating, we’re walking.”

 He stumbled behind her, almost losing his footing as they then past over a creek with very slippery stones, his leather loafers having little grip.

 “Is there a _particular_ reason we are avoiding the path?” he grunted out as he avoided another spill.

 “It’s shorter this way,” she said with a shrug, before giving him a teasing smile. “Why, afraid of a little mud on your shiny shoes, Percival?”

 He set his mouth tight and silently followed her. They made their way through the hanging branches of a willow tree, and then the thickets opened up to a Muggle street.

 Percy usually thought of himself as adept at Muggle relations. He was able to keep a low profile, not stand out as an oddity, and avoid speaking to them. He had never much thought about Muggles, other than how to avoid them and keep them happy in their bubble of ignorance.

 The war changed things, as he suddenly had to think of them almost constantly. How could he protect them, without looking like he was protecting them. How many of them had children who were going to be dragged away from them. How many of them would find their spouses gone or dead for marrying them. How many of them would find their relatives missing, on the run because they happened to be born magical.

 Still, he never thought about the day to day life of a Muggle person. He didn’t know much about their cultures, their money, their everyday existence. He knew he had a bit of a paternalistic view of Muggles, and could do better, but it was hard to make the time to do that.

 Audrey’s pace finally slowed down, and they stood in front of a restaurant with a flickering neon sign that read ‘El Mejor.’

 “We’re going to a Muggle restaurant?” he asked, searching about his person. Did he have one of his emergency Muggle paper monies on him?

 “Yeah, you have a problem with Muggles?” asked Audrey, giving him a challenging look.

 “Of course not,” Percy blustered. “I just don’t know if I have any Muggle money on me.”

 “Well luckily this place is very cheap, so you won’t owe me much.”

 They entered and Audrey stepped up to the register to chat with the man behind the counter, leaving Percy to look at the menu on the wall. It was all in Spanish. He resignedly squinted at it, hoping something would pop out that he knew. He knew what a taco was, and using latin root words, he could guess a translation here or there for the rest.  

 “Do you like pork and soup?” Audrey asked, taking pity on him. He nodded in the affirmative, and she ordered for them both.  It only took a few minutes before she was handed two large plastic bags completely filled with much more food than Percy thought was reasonable. He made his way to a table, but Audrey gave a shake of her head and indicated for him to follow her.

 “I figure we can eat back at the office,” she said. Percy felt mildly disappointed. Now that they were going to eat with one another, he thought they’d at least get to sit in the restaurant for a bit. The thought of heading back to her busy office was unappealing, but he nodded and followed her. He silently took the heavy bags from her, and started their trudge through the woods again.

 “You know, you seemed to talk a lot more in your office,” Audrey suddenly said, looking sideways at him.

 Percy gave a noncommittal shrug. He supposed he did. He had a lot to say about forms and procedure, as there was a lot to discuss. Here, walking with two giant bags of food next to Audrey...

 “I guess I don’t know what to say if there’s not an agenda,” he said, knowing he sounded boring.

 She looked at him for a moment, giving him an assessing look.

 “Well then, let us pretend we’re back in my office and you just arrived. What’s on the agenda today, Mr. Weasley?” she said with a mock curtsey.

 He felt a smile work its way onto his face.

 “Well Ms. Morales,” he said in his most mockingly ostentatious tone, which was not as much of a stretch as he would have liked. Deciding she might think he was actually that ridiculously pompous, he decided to try and keep his tone neutral. “I came regarding the issues you’ve been having in funding and manpower for the child welfare program. I know… _someone_ with some political sway who wants to be of assistance, but I wasn’t sure what they could do to help.”

 “That’s so great you want to help! We can always use more volunteers at the home.”

 “Oh no, I meant…” He had not meant himself at all. He’d meant Harry.

 She was regarding him with a smile unlike any of the others she’d given him in their acquaintance. She had given amused smiles, teasing smiles, sarcastic smile; but right now, her smile held a promise of admiration and companionship he hadn’t known in years.

 “I’d love to volunteer at the home” he blurted. What had he done? He knew next to nothing about children and had no idea why he said he would volunteer.

 “I have some forms you can fill out back at the office. Maybe you’d be a good story book reader,” she said with an even wider smile. Percy could imagine about a dozen people who would be better equipped for such a task. Well now he couldn’t let her know he had not come with the intention to volunteer. What had he even volunteered to do? Childmind?

 “Unless you want to help with the office side of things? Though, you deal with that so much, maybe it’d be nice for you to get to relax with the children.”

 Percy couldn’t think of anything less relaxing than spending time with those children. All the ones he’d met seemed wary of him. If he were a child, he’d would be wary as well of a stranger coming in. Who wanted a gangling rule-loving ginger lolling about? Maybe he would have a chance to see Audrey, though. That could be nice.

 “Would you mind us having a picnic instead of going back?” Audrey asked him. Percy happily gave affirmation, and in no time they had conjured a blanket and were seated next to the creek Percy had nearly fallen into earlier. Audrey looked at ease curled up on the ground with all the various dishes laid out for them. Percy had no ass, as the twins had teased him about for years, so managing all his long unpadded limbs on the ground was not an easy or comfortable task for him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d sat on the ground, much less had a picnic. He stiffly perched, while Audrey served up food for him. She filled their takeaway bowls with soup, fresh radish, onion and an assortment of other finely chopped vegetables she sprinkled on top, then went on to unroll the tacos from their metallic paper, putting an incredible amount of violently green sauce on top of her own.

 They ate in companionable silence for a bit, the only sound gracing their ears was the trickling of the creek, occasional bird song, and the rustle of that metal paper around their tacos- aloonimium?

 “You enjoying your pozole?”

 “Very much so, yes,” Percy answered truthfully. Percy had been worried the bright red soup would be too spicy for him, but it was instead comforting and delicious. “It reminds me of something my mum might make.”

 “Is she a good cook?”

 “Very.”

 “And this is British cuisine? I’ve never really seen the appeal.”

 “Well you’ve not really had great British food until you’ve eaten at Molly Weasley’s kitchen.”

 “Wait a moment,” said Audrey putting down her soup and staring at Percy agog. “Weasley!”

 “Yes?” he said, looking confused.

 “Your mum is THE Molly Weasley! She took down Bellatrix Lestrange! Your brother is Ronald Weasley! He helped Harry Potter take down Voldemort!”

 “Yes,” he said nodding, amused to see Audrey put on unsure footing for once. “Harry is the ‘someone with political sway’ I was talking about who could possibly help the children.”

 “You know… you know... him?” Audrey said, sounding dazed.

 “Yes.”

 “Well… Well, that’s good…” Audrey needed to take a few breaths, before she seemed to steady her nerves.  “So… In what capacity was Mr Potter wanting to help?”

 Percy explained how he had told them about the current issues facing her department at dinner the night before, and how Harry had asked if he could ‘pressure’ someone somewhere to make things better for the kids.

 “But he might want to volunteer in other capacities… I told him you were the person to talk to about all this.”

 “You talked to Harry Potter about me,” she said, looking a bit awe-struck again.

 “Well, yes. And my family,” Percy blurted out before feeling a familiar blushing sensation work its way down his face.  He hated his complexion. What must she think about him, talking about her to everyone like this? Between this and showing up at her office, she must have thought him the biggest jackass in the world.

 Instead of teasing him, Audrey gave him a warm look.

 “I can see why this would be a matter he cares about, given his history,” said Audrey, blessedly ignoring Percy’s deep blush. “Our biggest issue, of course, is funding. There’s only so much we can do to have the government fund more money here. Individual contributions are a good source as well. It’s quite difficult to get the home the attention it needs in general, but in the wake of everything, it’s easy for abandoned children and orphans to not get much consideration compared to issues that affect the most people. People are still trying to put their own lives back together, after all.”

 Percy knew all too well the toll the war had taken on families, but couldn’t bare to dwell on it in front of Audrey.

 “Do you think it would help to have some press attention on your home, perhaps? Harry doesn’t like the press, but maybe for a fundraiser, he’d be willing to put in some time.”

 “Percy, I think that would be amazing. I’ll put together a list of resources and past donors, some policy changes that would be helpful for him to be familiar with. Even if he just were to come and see the children, no press or anything, that alone would be amazing. But a fundraiser aided by him? I just… I think I’m actually vibrating thinking about that as even a possibility!

 She flopped across the picnic blanket and gave him a vigorous hug around his knee, as she hadn’t quite been able to reach any further than that in her exuberant wiggle.

 “I’ll see what he can commit to,” Percy said with a laugh. “Don’t get too excited, though. I don’t know what all he will or can do!”

 “I’m Latina. We’re always excited,” Audrey beamed, lying back on the blanket. “If Milo ever met Harry Potter, you might just get to see him smile.”

 “He seems to smile enough around you,” Percy said, remembering how she’d been able to make the stoic child laugh in the ministry halls.

 “Ah, any kid will smile at a good raspberry sound,” she said, unabashedly giving a demonstration with a hearty ‘ _pfthttttt_ ’, that took Percy aback a moment. Another smile broke out on his face. Even when she was at her most unladylike, she was infinitely charming.

 “You’re good with all the children, though.”

 She gave a modest shrug before laughing. “Considering I’m surrounded by them every day, I’d better be at least ok!”

 “Is that what made you want to work in the Magical Child Welfare department?”

 An oddly closed expression appeared on Audrey’s face.

 “Yeah sure,” she said quickly, sitting up to gather all the leftovers she had, her hair tumbling down her shoulder in a wave. He fumbled with his watch a moment, so he’d stop staring at her. She put a preserving charm on the food and with a wave of her wand the leftovers were in their bags again, as if they had not touched them.

 “Oh no,” she let out, suddenly standing, then pointing to his watch. “Look at the time. We’d better head back in.”

 Percy wasn’t sure he wanted to go back to work. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so at peace. He was content to sit on a blanket in the woods with her for the rest of the day, a rare feeling for him.

 “How much do I owe you for the food?” he asked as they strolled back to the office.

 “Nothing. In fact, the leftovers are yours,” she said, a grin on her face. “You’ve volunteered with the kids, and are trying to get Harry Potter to help them too. That earns you the best, and cheapest, tacos and pozole in London! If it makes you feel better, I’ll steal one taco from your bag to eat in your honor tonight.”

“I haven’t done anything worthy of honor,” he muttered to his feet. He had meant it to sound teasing, but the words felt so true and vivid he couldn’t manage to say it with anything but hollowness.

 Audrey stopped walking and gave him a long hard look.

 “I don’t know you very well, Percival Weasley,” said Audrey, all soberness in her expression, “but you work every day to bring families together. You brought our cause to the attention of someone who could make a huge difference. I remember hearing about your family. I hadn’t put it together until you mentioned your mother, but you were all there. You’re the only family who had every single member fight in the Battle of Hogwarts. That includes you. I’d say all that’s worthy of honor.”

 Percy didn’t know how to respond to such words, so didn’t. His mind reeled back to the battle. The heat from unchecked flames. The smell of pulverized stone in the air. The ringing in his ears. The feel of his throat as he screamed and screamed. His stomach clenching and joints aching as he dragged at his brother’s lifeless corpse. The smell of the bodies that no charm seemed to be able to dissipate.

 “At least a taco’s worth of honor,” Audrey said, elbowing him in the side, knocking him back to reality.

 “What?”

 “I said I’d eat a taco in your honor- all your deeds get you at least a taco’s worth of honor.”

 He reluctantly smiled in return, and they amicably walked the rest of the way to her office in silence. She didn’t seem to notice he had hovered in another time thinking of the battle. He wished he could scourgify his mind of it. Everything about it made him feel tainted and brittle. He watched Audrey smile at some birds in the tree, looking so care free and untroubled. Percy doubted he had ever beheld the world like that in his whole life, but knew he never would be able to now. She was so unspoilt and happy, he almost felt like his presence might ruin it.

 The moment they passed the Magical Child Welfare sign, the quiet woods gave way to the sound of loud children. It hit in a wave, a contrast so artificially stark that only discreet silencing charm barriers could have provided it.

 They walked into her office, just as colorful and chaotic. This time Percy deftly avoided a stampede of kids as they ran past him. She had him fill out his volunteer form as she looked through the leftover bad for her ‘honor taco.’

 “When can we expect you back?” Audrey asked.

 “Whenever you need a volunteer,” replied Percy.

 “So now? Tomorrow?” she asked, before laughing a bit. Percy must have made a face, for she quickly waved a hand at him.“No no! I’m kidding! You have a very busy job. Would you want to come here Saturday? If you’re not busy.”

 “I’m definitely free. Will you be here?”

 “I’m definitely free too,” Audrey said with a smile. He had stood there staring at her, for far longer than propriety would ever approve.

 The black man from earlier that day approached them with a smug smile on his face.

 “So! How was your date?”

 “It wasn’t a– -” Percy began, as Audrey let out a no-nonsense, “None of your business!”

 “Ah and here I was just joking! I didn’t know it was actually a date, Morales!” Obasi chuckled. Audrey gave him a playful swat and pushed him over towards his desk.

“Uh yes. I need to go. Thank you for the food,” Percy said, color rising up his neck. He’d need to take a potion or do a charm before he came back that weekend to keep his blushes in check.

“See you here at ten thirty?” Audrey asked.

Percy nodded his assent, smiling in kind, before apparating back to his very colorless office.

After the chaos of Audrey and her office, his stood out as tame, boring and colorless. Most would chose those same adjectives to describe Percy himself, and he didn’t disagree. Audrey probably thought so as well. Compared to anyone, she was vivacious and colorful, but compared to him? Percy thought it ludicrous that he’d shared the same space with someone like that.

His office now felt downright depressing.  It had never bothered him before, as he liked it quiet and without distractions to do his paperwork Now he found himself restless the moment he sat down. He wasted minutes sharpening his quill and fiddling with his ink, not wanting to start, but finally relented when he thought of all the people who could be hurt or inconvenienced by his dawdling with their paperwork. He had powered through a large portion of his endless inbox by the time the clock indicated the day was ending, when he heard a knock at his office door.

“It’s open,” he said, putting his quill down, and looking up to see, “Ron!”

His little brother hulked in the door frame, shifting from foot to foot, looking uncertain. For a moment neither said anything, both seemingly shocked to find themselves in this position. Percy was the first to act and haltingly rose from his seat.

“Come in, come in,” Percy gestured, seating them both in the guest seats, hoping this would make his brother feel more at ease. Ron flopped into the chair, and his knees pointed up to the ceiling as his chair was too low to the ground for his tall frame. So much for putting his brother at ease. After a moment Ron waved his wand to make the chair a bit bigger, then sat back down in it, looking much more dignified.

“Would you like something to drink? Some tea perhaps?”

“No thanks,” Ron said, long fingers nervously fiddling at a hole in the knee of his trousers. Silence stretched between them, wide as any quidditch pitch. Fractious tense energy seemed to pour from Ron, and Percy was yet again reminded that his brother was no longer the little boy he’d known. The weary way Ron carried himself, the blank look that came over his eyes at times, the way he always stood as if poised to go into action… It all painted a sad picture of stolen youth.  Ron was a child soldier, damaged by a war he had no place being in. His little brother was only eighteen. He should have been attending school, lazing about Hogsmeade, going on dates with Hermione, and have his biggest worry be his N.E.W.T. results. Instead, his brother was here in Percy’s office, looking thoroughly worn-out with a large amount of stubble gracing his jaw.

“So– ” “Well!” They began at the same time.

Percy tried to keep from laughing at himself, and at the absurdity of their situation. Two brothers who used to be able to talk so easily at one point, so unable to do so now. Well, perhaps they never really spoke much. They more argued than anything, but at least that had been easy enough to fall into.

“So, what brings you here, Ron?” he asked mildly, hoping to not accidentally rile his brother, whose shoulders were slowly tensing closer to his ears.

“Hermione,” Ron said quietly before looking at his brother with determination. “I’m here for Hermione.”

Percy nodded, waiting for Ron to say whatever he had to say. At one point in time Percy would have lead the discussion, coming to conclusions, and dismissively writing off the initiative it took for Ron to come here. He now knew it was best to idle in situations like this.

Ron took a breath before a calm seemed to come over him.

“I’m going to need your help with ‘family reunification’ for Hermione,” said Ron. The look on his face promised that if Percy did not give said help, there would be hell to pay. Percy willed himself not to flinch. Whatever silent challenge Ron had been weighing against Percy seemed to be temporarily resolved, and he began to relate what had brought him here.

“Before we left to help Harry,” Ron quietly recounted, “Hermione needed to keep her parents safe. She modified their memory so they don’t know she exists, they have different names, and are off somewhere in Australia. Even Hermione doesn’t know where, because she didn’t want Voldemort,” Percy flinched, “and his lot somehow getting to her parents through us.”

“That is some amazingly complex spell work for a teen not even out of Hogwarts,” Percy said, shaking his head in amazement.

“You don’t know the half of it,” said Ron with a humorless laugh. “She even put some spells on them to make them untraceable by owl. I’m at a loss as to where to start, because that was my first thought. Just get to Australia and send an owl with a tracker on it, or a portkey could work to get at least one of them back. Hell, even follow it on a broom,” said Ron, staring at his knees again, fingers twining like spiders, an image Percy would never repeat to his arachnophobic brother.

“There are definitely some other methods our office can help you with,” Percy began, but he was quickly cut off by Ron.

“I don’t want your office on it, I want _you_ on it,” said Ron fiercely. “I know how hard you’ve been working for all these other families, and you’re the guy to see on this. That work might be pressing, but Hermione is more important than any of them, and has done more for winning this war than anyone except Harry.”

“I know,” said Percy, putting up a placating hand.

“No you don’t know,” Ron said with a shake of his head. He wrenched himself from his chair and walked towards the one window.

“You don’t know. No one can really ever know! but Harry and I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for her ten times over. We all owe her so much. This stupid bleeding government owes it to her. Every person you know owes it to her. She’s been through– ”

Ron abruptly stopped himself, looking almost physically pained. Whatever the horrors they witnessed in the war, it haunted Ron deeply. He hadn’t shared much of what had happened. In fact, most of what Percy knew was either from stories at the Ministry, or Bill. Ron’s fingers traced along one of the winding scars on his arm. Percy noticed, for the first time, Ron was missing the ends of two of his fingers.

“Does Hermione know you’re here?” Percy asked as gently as he could.

“No,” said Ron blinking and coming back to himself. “I’d like to keep it that way until things are more sorted. We have some time, at least. She’s barely said a thing about getting her parents back.”

“Why is that?” Percy confusedly asked. The idea of focused and determined Hermione putting off something so important was disconcerting.

“A lot of reasons,” Ron said with a shrug. “She hasn’t talked about it much, but I know her. Honestly, part of it is that she wants to be here for me and our family, but I won’t let her do that.

And I know she’s afraid of how per parents will react when she undoes the memory charms she put on them. She’s dragging her feet to avoid that. Then the other day I found a piece of parchment where she was doing the maths for how much it would cost to find her parents, and it’s a lot. She doesn’t have anything but the clothes on her back and a pile of books. Even her old house is just sitting there empty.

I want to take care of as much of this as I can for her so she doesn’t have to think about it. I’m broke as hell, but they’re recruiting me to be an Auror. The recruitment signing bonus should cover a lot of the costs. I already have another few jobs lined up I can make some money at, so the galleons part I can get done. I just need your help on the finding them end of it.”

Percy gazed at his brother, before a small smile worked its way onto his face.

“Ron, you don’t have to worry about the money. I can– ”

“I’m not taking one sickle from you!” Ron snarled.

“And you won’t have to,” Percy said firmly, hoping to keep Ron at bay long enough to get everything out. “I can do some paperwork. There’s a discretionary fund for helping with the costs of these things, as so many people simply can’t afford portkeys and travel expenses after the war. Australia’s government has been accommodating as well, so I’m sure our office can have this sorted fairly quickly. When Muggles travel internationally they leave a long paper trail, and then when they move they have to register with the Muggle government. Unless they’ve decided to ‘live off the grid’ as they call it, her parents will probably only take a few weeks to locate, perhaps less if we pressure their government. Given Hermione’s importance in the war, I’m sure Kingsley would make that happen.”

“How do we know Death Eaters didn’t use this method to track them down already?”

“Well, things were rather chaotic last year. It’s so _easy_ for forms to get _lost_ . And they didn’t want anything to do with Muggles, so if a few of us _accidentally_ inform them of the pathways within the Muggle governments to find people…  Well… That was only natural outcome of a busy Ministry,” smiled Percy. He fondly recalled a great number of times they thought he was a bumbler, when in fact he had hidden forms with addresses of Muggleborns, or had lied about the state of Muggle government paper trails.

“Led a little office rebellion, did you?” Ron said, almost laughing.

 Percy glared.

 “The ones who got caught ‘accidentally’ withholding information didn’t just get a slap on the wrist. You saw the dementors all over the place when you broke into the ministry last year, I’m sure.”

 “Right,” said Ron, holding up a hand. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to undermine what people risked here. So… So that’s all there is to it then, for Hermione and her parents?”

 “Yes,” said Percy, giving a smile to assure Ron there were no hard feelings.

 “I thought this would be a whole lot harder,” said Ron, his expression showing incredulity.

 “Just a whole lot of paperwork,” said Percy before quickly adding, “which I’m happy to personally do for the both of you.”

  “Fuck, I just knew it was going to be another horrible hard to do thing… I’m not used to things going easy on us… Is that really it?”

 “That’s really it.”

  For the first time in Percy’s presence, the air seemed to go out of Ron and his rigid posture sank until his head was in his hands. Ron’s relief seemed to make him shake, whether with laughter or tears, Percy was not sure.

Knowing his younger brother would never want to be seen so vulnerable, Percy loudly busied himself gathering forms and paperwork so Ron could collect himself. After a minute or two Ron gave a wobbly ‘thanks’ from behind his hands, before wiping at his face.

“Of course. I’m assuming you will accompany her to Australia to retrieve them?”

“Course I will,” Ron let out, still looking pale.

Percy nodded.

“So the Aurors, huh?” Percy asked.

“Yeah,” said Ron, looking at his hands, half a smile working its way onto his face. “They must be off their broom for wanting someone like me.”

Self deprecation was part and parcel for Ron, but Percy hated to see him think so meanly of himself. He had never done much to encourage Ron over the years, and had always just assumed Ron was fine. None of the siblings had encouraged Percy, after all.

Percy thought to how Audrey had handled him earlier that day, and how she’d propped him up so nicely when he’d been loathing himself. Percy didn’t deserve to have that sort of support at all, but Ron surely did.

“You’re a bit of a hero, Ron. Of course they’d want you.”

Ron made a dismissing gesture. “I’m a dropout who doesn’t even have N.E.W.T.s.”

“What good is a standardized test compared to your experience?”

Ron gave him an incredulous look. “Should I be asking you a security question? There’s not a Death Eater pretending to be my brother here, is there?”

“No.”

“Head injury?”

“No!” Percy said, letting out a short laugh.

“Sorry, just had to make sure. Percy Weasley saying tests aren’t as good as experience. I’ll have to tell Fred an– ” Ron cut himself off, making a face. The two forcibly ignored his faux pas.  

“Well, the Ministry must be pretty desperate to want the likes of me, anyways. I’ll probably get myself or someone else killed the first day on the job.”

“Don’t say things like that,” Percy snapped.

“Sorry,” Ron said quickly, “I shouldn’t joke about dying so soon after– ”

“You can’t joke like that. And you can’t keep belittling yourself like that either. Do you really value yourself so little?”

Ron’s face turned mulish.  “I didn’t come here for one of your patented lectures, Percy.”

“Fine” said Percy shaking his head. “But if you continue saying things like that about yourself, I won’t help with Hermione’s parents. Their case can go to the back of the queue.”

Ron sat up in his chair, gobsmacked.

“You can’t do that!”

“I don’t want to!” said Percy, hoping he wasn’t causing a truly irreparable rift. “But it’s the only leverage I have. You won’t do it for your own sake, but you’ll do it for Hermione.”

Ron couldn’t argue with that, and kept his mouth firmly shut. His eyes flashed in anger.

“Here’s your  lecture, then,” said Percy, his voice firm. “The Aurors will be lucky to have you, Ron. You’d already been in two battles with Death Eaters by the end of your sixth year. Most auror recruits haven't even been in real duels by the time they have graduated the academy. Mix in this last year, and you probably have more experience than any recruit they’ve ever had. You are an accomplished and powerful wizard. Don’t forget it.”

Ron still looked like he wanted to hit Percy, his arms crossed and fists flexing, but his expression softened after a moment.

“Is that all?”

“Yes.”

“I’m fair convinced you _are_ an imposter, now. You’ve never been much for flattery.”

“Well, maybe I should have.”

“I guess I can’t stay mad when you lay it on so thick, like that.”

“Guess not,” Percy agreed.

With that they went to work writing down all the information they could on Hermione’s parents: their real names, fake names, past addresses, profession and interests, and everything else Percy could think of. Ron seemed to know every answer.

“I think that should do it, then. I’ll submit the documents by tomorrow, and will update you as soon as I hear anything.”

“Thanks,”  said Ron before asking, “What’s this?”

He was pointing to the plastic take-away bag Audrey had given Percy.

“A plastic bag.”

“I know it’s a plastic bag, thank you. No I mean, since when do you get Muggle takeaway?”

“I had lunch with a work colleague,” Percy replied rather formally. For some reason he wanted to keep his rendezvous with Audrey private. “By the way, I have a proposal for Harry.”

“Don’t let Ginny here that,” chuckled Ron.

“Yes… Very humorous.”

Percy went on to explain his and Audrey’s ideas for a fundraiser and publicity with Harry’s help, as well as the volunteer opportunity the coming Saturday.

“Harry’d gladly empty his vault to help a bunch of orphans, but I don’t know about the publicity bit…” Ron said, scratching at his chin. “He’s been pretty burned by reporters and papers. I mean, the way they keep twisting about every damn word he says, and even straight up lying a lot of the time. Then everyone starts believing it.”

“Yes. Yes I know…” That horrible guilt Percy kept feeling was back. He’d somehow forgotten how he had believed the media’s portrayal of Harry a few years ago. Compared to his betrayal of his family, it had not weight all that heavily on him. For all intents and purposes, Harry was family, really. Ron had basically adopted him their first year, and no one objected. He’d always been a quiet and sweet kid. In first year he’d asked Percy hundreds of questions about things and actually listened quite raptly in a way Percy’s own siblings never did. Granted, this was mostly because Harry was starved for information on the wizarding world, but that didn’t make the sombre kid any less endearing. And then like that, after Harry had been through a terrible trauma, Percy decided to turn on him and badmouth him along with the rest of the world. He’d even written a letter to Ron saying to drop the friendship that was as close as any brotherhood. Yet now, when at the Burrow, Harry didn’t seem to have a hint of resentment towards Percy. He treated him as kindly as ever.

“After everything that has happened, no one is going to listen to yet another sad story about the aftermath of the war, kids or no. It’ll just get lost in the mix. I think getting Harry is pretty key, honestly. So… If we want to convince Harry on this, instead of going straight at him, you should have him meet the kids first, then approach on the rest. Once he’s personally involved he’ll go all in.”

“Thanks Ron. I know Audrey would be thrilled.”

“Audrey? Isn’t that the Child Welfare worker you were talking about for so long the other night?”

Percy wished he could disapparate to his flat on the spot.

“Er, yes.”

Ron had an amused look on his face as Percy colored, but said nothing.

“Right, well I’m off. I’ll tell Harry about the kid thing and get Hermione in on it too. Keep me informed on all this Australia stuff?”

“Of course. If you like I can charm the documents to be about Auror things or something so she doesn’t catch on as quickly.”

“Yeah, that’d be great. I can’t keep it from her for long.”

Ron thanked him again and left.

Percy let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and sank in his chair. He supposed he should be happy with how everything had gone. Ron seemed pleased with him. He and Audrey had spent a lunch break enjoying each other’s company. Well, he had enjoyed her company at least. She probably was happy to be rid of him. Still, Percy felt tense and empty.

He understood why Ron had gotten overwhelmed by things going well. To some it might seem like an extreme reaction, but after all they’d gone through, sometimes happy emotions were just as exhausting as negative emotions. The two would get so mixed up tha all it left was the dead calm in between. They were all still raw from everything, and Percy didn’t know when these wounds would heal up.

He’d barely been through anything, compared to the rest of his family, but he still woke up in cold sweats, his wand aloft and pointed at nothing in particular. The clock on his wall of filing cabinets let out a whistle, and was flashing ‘go home, already!’ at him. He had nothing to go home to, except his owl Hermes, but he was rather tired and complied with the little timepiece.

He filed the last of his papers, grabbed his takeout bag and went out into the hall. He was feeling more and more exhausted with each step, that by the time he was halfway to an apararition point he decided he’d rather Floo instead. He abruptly turned around and a woman walked straight into him.

“Oh!” she let out, seeming not to realize she’d even ran into a person at all.

He murmured an apology then looked up from the ground to see Penelope Clearwater. He hadn’t seen her since before the war had begun, and was relieved to see she was ok. She looked much the same as she ever had, trim, pale and perfectly curled hair. Her usual fresh face, however, was looking ruddy and tears were in her eyes.

“Percy!” she let out after a moment, clearly trying to stop herself from crying. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you–  I need to.”

“Penelope, are you alright?”

“I just got back from Canada. Most of us were hiding there, you know.”

Penelope was Muggleborn and like many others, that meant she had to flee the country. He knew she was going to escape before the Ministry fell, of course. He’d been the one to help her with her paperwork for an emergency portkey so she and her family could safely evacuate if they didn’t have time to move the usual way. He had checked on her flat and family home, both of which were empty with no signs of a struggle, after the Ministry fell. He hadn’t read anything in the papers, so had to assume she was safe.

Eight months before the fall of the ministry they had parted ways. They’d broken up, not due to anything wrong in their relationship per se, but because in times of war, it just was too hard to maintain a relationship like theirs. She needed time to prepare to make a life abroad until everything blew over, and Percy was not going to leave Britain with her. Not that she asked. In truth, their relationship had not been going anywhere, despite its length. They met like clockwork, would listen to each other complain about paperwork, their jobs, congestion at the Floo Network, then would enjoy a sensible meal and finish with fine, if much of the time tepid, sex. Things had been… fine. She was always willing to listen to him, a trait that made her infinitely more dear to him than most, since Percy was almost always ignored.

“What’s the matter, Penny?” he asked, using her old nickname they only used in private. He conjured a handkerchief she immediately put to use. He’d never seen her cry before. In fact she’s always been rather placid, never giving away much emotion. He supposed that was another trait he had liked in her when they initially got together. His own family was so loud and impassioned, he found it exhausting much of the time. He wanted that passion back instead of the dull husks everyone seemed to be.

Penelope shook her head and dabbed at her face.

“My brother...We just found out my older brother… His family... They found his body and–  I thought that maybe it was a m-mistake, but it wasn’t. We hadn’t heard from him in a few weeks, but we thought it-it was just because he was busy… He had been living as a M-Muggle safe for so long… Why would Death Eaters target him this late?”

“And you’re sure it was Death Eaters?” Percy grimly asked.

“Yes. They... Wrote terrible things… Terrible things on his body…”

Percy had never met her brother. He was magical, like Penelope, but upon graduating Hogwarts had gone on to Muggle college and become an accountant, living a almost wholly Muggle life. He was so much older than Penelope that they had little to do with one another. He had his own life. Her brother even had–  had a wife and two children.

“And the rest of the family…?” Percy asked, dreading having to hear the answer.

“They killed his wife and my niece and nephew are m-missing,” Penelope let out.

Percy let out a small hiss hearing this.

“Penny, I am so sorry,” he said emphatically, giving her a hug she returned with more force than she ever had in previous embraces. When she finally let go he searched his person and finally found what he was looking for.

“Here is my card. I work with family reunification. On Saturday I am going to the Child Welfare office. If you like, you can come with me and we can see if they know anything about your niece and nephew.”

“Oh thank you, Percy,” she said giving him a hug and kiss on the cheek. “I’m so grateful I quite literally ran into you.”

Percy nodded, giving her a sympathetic smile. He knew what it was to lose a brother. As horrible as it was to witness, at least he knew his brother had gone fast and his body hadn’t been toyed with. He was dead and buried and that was it. Penelope’s situation was, in some ways, much worse. She might not have been particularly close with her brother, the age gap being so wide, but that didn’t make it any less painful to lose him. She had lost many people, though, and had no idea how much they had suffered, or if their children had even survived.

Feeling even more unsure on his feet, Percy darted into a nearby office and used their private Floo so he wouldn’t have to walk any further. He wanted to crawl into bed, clothes on and everything, but went about his usual routine instead. Clean glasses, remove robe, spell away soot, feed Hermes if he hadn’t found something for himself, then sit down for dinner while listening to the Wireless current events.

Percy sat at the table and sluggishly heated his leftovers with his wand. The smell brought him back to his picnic with Audrey, and he ate the warming food, feeling a bit better than he had before. As he showered and prepared for never like that even as a child,as far as he could remember, so it was hard to imagine being like her as a full grown adult.

Some of his brothers used to be like her, but the war had changed them. He wondered if they’d ever be like her again. In many ways Ron was the same- still teasing, loyal, insecure, and strategically minded. But now a sombre edginess cut through Ron– it cut through all of them. With George, it threatened to cut him to ribbons. At times, Percy wasn’t so sure he wouldn’t be cut to ribbons too.

The one thing he had that kept him tethered in place was that he had others who were depending on him. After his job concluded, well, he wasn’t so sure what would keep him grounded. Audrey seemed to flash in his mind. Her smile. The busy office. The children who were so happy to see her. Maybe he’d find purpose there, as she had. Sleep took a while to find him, as always, but the next morning he woke without having had one nightmare.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TO BE CONTINUED. Thank you for reading it thus far. If you enjoyed this chapter, or have any thoughts, please let me know.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The following chapter describes intense crime scenes, has some disturbing imagery. It also describes the sensation of not being able to breathe. Reader discretion is advised.

Percy had never been good at setting limits for himself. Overworking himself to the point of exhaustion was a natural state for him. He’d work beyond burnout, as if there was an endless fuel of energy within him, not matter how thinly he stretched himself.

When he was younger he truly felt there was no limitation in what he could accomplish. If you want to get a job done, there is limitless energy you can expend to get said job done. All you had to do was organize your mind and POOF! It would get done. Allnighters, skipping meals, social isolation, pushing caffeine-like potions and even using charms to stay awake. Those all felt reasonable to him. Afterwards he’d feel shaky and exhausted, but one good night of sleep or two and he’d be back to normal.

Now, no matter how he tried to dole out his energy more wisely, he felt like he’d run a marathon of allnighters. A constant numb tiredness saturated him. He was only twenty-one, but feeling decades older. He supposed he accomplished quite a lot in a day compared to most people, but that failed to energize him or make the numbness dissipate. If anything, he was aware of how little he could accomplish compared to before.

He had so many people coming into his office, and so many papers, and so many questions, and so many problems to solve and… He just couldn’t handle it like he used to. His head was pounding, as if the pulse wanted to make its way out his eye sockets.

He looked up from his form at the old man across the table. He was looking at Percy expectantly, as if he could provide an answer that would fix everything, but Percy knew he would be very little help at all. He wanted to help. He’d cut off his right hand if he thought it’d help. But nothing would. Percy’s hands began to sweat.

“I don’t understand…” the old man let out.

“Your son’s body was found at the Mireland Camp. We can perform a spell to give you an image to identify him, just to make sure, but fingerprints indicate it to be John.”

“But… but I received his letter. Just weeks ago. His letter…”

“Yes… It looks like it was sent to the wrong address, and someone sent it to you just now.”

“How… How long has my John been dead?”

“This form says about four months.”

The old man gave a shuddering cry, and Percy quickly conjured a handkerchief for the man who began sobbing.

The old man had been searching over half a year, and finally when he thought he was to be unified with his son, Percy has to tell the man they found nothing but a body.

In the past few days, he had to tell over a dozen families they’d found their loved one’s body. Aurors had uncovered a Muggleborn ‘internment camp.’ They had named it Mireland Camp. A camp seemed such an inadequate term for what they’d discovered. It was a prison of death and torture. Inhuman experiments had been performed on prisoners there to try and find the ‘root of their stolen magic.’ They’d done everything they could to strip prisoners of this ‘stolen’ magic,’ and then when Voldemort’s defeat had happened, the wardens abandoned their prisoners. It was a well hidden prison, with so many spells in place that no one knew it existed but those who had been there. If not for a confession from a captured Death Eater, all the prisoners would surely have died. Many had starved to death, though, unable to escape the pens they’d been locked away in.

There were mounds of bodies, and so far, only less than one hundred had been identified. The Death Eaters’ records had been enchanted so only a Death Eater could read them. The Ministry only had a few people with Dark Marks willing or able to read the records. Death Eaters were currently dictating documents to Quick Quills, even as Percy sat here telling an old man the search for his son was at an end.

They were lucky that his son had been a Ministry employee- otherwise, they would need to do a variety of tests to identify the half-putrefied corpse. It had only been preserved well enough for fingerprints due to a peat bog the Death Eaters had been throwing corpses in. Some of the prisoners were turned into Inferi— left behind by the monsters who had run the camp. They had been a nasty surprise for the Aurors and volunteers who went on a rescue mission to the Camp.

“Do they know… Do they know how he died?”

Percy roughly swallowed. There wasn’t enough flesh to immediately how John had died, but given the five arms growing out the side of the body, it was likely due to a human experiment gone wrong.

“It’s unknown. An autopsy would need to be done. If you’d like to forgo that, of course, you may. It can be easier on the family, in these cases, not to know.”

Percy hoped the old man wouldn’t try to find out more about the camp. Every new file he came across left him feeling nauseated. He hadn’t been able to imagine anything so inhumane or sick as the variety of horrible deaths he’d been told about. The only thing thing he could be grateful for was that he didn’t have to go there and help remove the corpses. He was looking forward to getting the victims of the prison back to their families, if they had any.

Family reunification.

It had seemed like such an easy task at first. Just getting people back together! Fill out some forms, arrange a portkey here or there, and poof! There are happy families having a reunion.

Percy was not prepared for the influx of people who didn’t know where their family members were, and was even less prepared to inform them their family members were dead. It grew harder and harder each week. The longer he worked, the dead people or missing family. His files were filled with face after face. They had a book of pictures for people to look through— some were pictures of the dead, some were children who didn’t know their full names, some of people suffering from so much mental spell damage they didn’t know their own name. Lastly, there were spells they could use to reconstruct a corpses face. They were somehow most disturbing, because the face would look alive and whole- when in fact the owner of that face was dead and their body so destroyed that they needed a spell to create a face.

The old man didn’t spend much time in the office, and Percy was terribly grateful for it. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep himself together watching an old man mourn for his son, openly weeping and asking questions no one should have to ask about their child. Percy’s hands had a tremble in them as he escorted the man out the door.

The door shut, and not for the first time, Percy felt his own breath start to hitch. He rubbed at his eyes, stubbornly trying to keep his tears at bay. He was too tired and had too much to do. There was no time for him to sit and cry now. He had no time at all. His box was filling up with more people to see, and he couldn’t stop for a moment. He leaned his back against the door to take a calming breath, but his ribs refused to move normally.  An invisible vice tightened around his chest, leaving him unable to catch his breath. His mouth airlessly convulsed, gasping and trembling, face red, eyes watering. He couldn’t breathe!

He looked for his wand in panic, hoping he could do a non-verbal Anapnea and get air. His wand rolled from his grasp under the table and he hadn’t the breath to find it. He looked to his desk where the Mireland Camp documents sat. Was one of the documents he touched cursed?

He’d never felt such tension run through his body before. His stomach roiled and he vomited where he stood. Tears blinded him as he couldn’t stop gagging, panting, and feeling as if his lungs were going to leave his body.

Shivers ran up his arms and he just managed to collapse to his knees when a knock came at the door. He couldn’t make a sound, and somehow the knock made it even more impossible to breathe. The someone knocked again, and Percy managed a gasping cry of ‘no!’ before the door burst open and to his horror his father, eldest brothers and sister-in-law stood before him, wands drawn and ready to attack. They looked down in surprise to find Percy on the floor, still unable to breathe and lungs burning.

“Merlin!” Dad cried out, kneeling beside him.

“Percy, are you ill?” asked Fleur.

Percy fiercely shook his head, unable to say a word. His lungs kept pumping, but it was as if all the air had left the room.

“Everyone out,” Dad commanded the room. They quickly obeyed, leaving just a father and his third son. His dad did some spells beside him before saying, in a slow calm voice:

“I have a cold cloth I am going to put on you, if that’s alright. Concentrate on how cold it is. It will help.”

Percy let out a hiss as a cool cloth was applied to the back of his neck.

“Now, focus on something ahead of you. How about the the wallpaper pattern. Try to count as many of the dots in it as you can.”

Percy thought it was ludicrous to count dots when he couldn’t breathe, but hadn’t the energy to ignore his father. Time seemed to crawl as they sat there on the floor, counting wallpaper dots and breathing. Eventually the choking sensation subsided and his breathing became more slow and even. He knew his office was rather warm, but his whole body seemed to shake and convulse with cold.

“You’re ok, son, you’re ok,” Dad hummed.

“I’m sorry,” rasped Percy, giving a rough swallow.

“It’s fine,” said Dad, standing with a small grunt. “Are you alright with the others coming in or should I ask them to leave?”

Percy gave a shrug. He couldn’t bring himself to decide anything, he just felt tired.

“You ok?” asked Charlie as he barged into the room.

“I guess? I don’t know... what happened… One moment I was fine, and the next— the next I was…” He gestured pointlessly, his boneless arms lamely flopping by his side.

“I think you had... What is it called, Bill? Une crise de panique?”

“What?” Percy dazedly asked, not knowing as much French as he would like.

“A panic attack,” Bill answered from the doorway, looking grim. Percy flushed and tried to rise, feeling a bit dizzy as he did so. To his shame Fleur and Charlie caught his arms and guided him to a chair as if he were a fainting miss from the 1800s.

Charlie was staring at him as if he were an injured baby dragon, a big hand rubbing at Percy’s shoulder. Percy didn’t have the strength to shrug it off. Fleur conjured some fresh water and handed him a glass he drank from. The cool water did little to rid his mouth of the acrid taste of sick, but he was grateful to have something to concentrate on as everyone stared at him.

“Have you had one of these before?” Dad asked, taking a seat beside Percy.

Percy shook his head, unable to look at any of them.

“It wasn’t a panic attack,” he let out. There must have been something cursed in the papers. He’d been holding them all morning, after all.

“Well, you are not ze only one to ‘ave these, Percy. Zey are not uncommon, especially after all this war.”

Percy shook his head again. He couldn’t have had a panic attack.

They all seemed to exchange looks around him.

“It’s fine, Percy,” said Bill. “A lot of people have these—”

“It wasn’t a bloody panic attack!” Percy snapped, stunning everyone silent. “The papers… The ones from Mireland. It must have been those.”

Percy shakily pointed to the papers at his desk. There were two in the file that were from the Mireland Camp. He wouldn’t put it past the Death Eaters to curse someone who had it in their presence too long.

Bill took his wand and grazed it across the papers, a series of runes and light rose from the paper. Percy felt his ears go red as he made out some of the runes. He was rusty, but as far as he could make out, there were no curses there. Just the enchantment to make the paper unreadable, which he was already aware of.

Bill squinted at Percy, but said nothing. They all silently knew there was no curse on the papers.

“When’s the last time you ate?” asked Charlie, more loudly and cheerfully than was natural.

Percy wasn’t sure and gave a weak shrug.

“We came to get you for a surprise lunch at the Burrow,” said Dad. “Your mother’s made a nice spread. She finally had the inclination to make a big meal, so we thought we should embrace it while it was here.”

“I have too much to do—” Percy began, but Charlie had grabbed him by the shoulders and was pulling him up.

“No way, Perce. You’re coming to the Burrow and taking the rest of the day off,” he proclaimed, moving round to poke at the books on Percy’s desk. “Your schedule doesn’t have anyone on it.”

“That’s because I have paperwork to do.”

“You need to put your paperwork off to tomorrow,” said Bill. “After one of these it’s best to take a rest.”

“I can’t! I’ll get behind!” said Percy, starting to feel the burning sensation in his lungs start again. “I can’t get behind! If I do, then there’s more families not finding each other and it will be my fault. They’ve been through too much. I can’t— I can’t take a moment! I can’t stop for a moment! I can’t stop— I can’t!”

“Percy,” he heard his father say firmly, but kindly. Percy snapped his gaze up. Dad calmly put a hand on Percy’s. “Come home.”

Percy had no fight left in him. He could barely breathe, let alone fight back. He dumbly nodded.

Charlie volunteered to side-along with Percy, but thankfully their Dad intervened and did it instead. Charlie had never been the best at Apparating. The only time Percy had side-along Apparated with Charlie it had been a sickening experience that left him dizzy for hours afterwards. An apparition with Charlie after his current illness would surely leave Percy sick to his stomach, if not unconscious.

They had little to say as they made their way from the Apparation point, and Charlie slowly walked beside Percy. It was casual, but Percy could tell his brother was tensely at the ready should another ‘illness’ take him. His knees felt weak, so after walking only a few meters he was grateful to have someone nearby as backup.

They entered the Burrow and their Mum immediately bustled over.

“Oh, I’m so glad you all could make it, even though it was so last minute,” she said, giving each of them a hug.

Every Weasley was present except for George. Blessedly no one pointed out his absence; otherwise their Mum would probably have her own _une crise de panique_. As they gathered round the table, Ginny and Harry seemed more interested in each other than anyone else at the table, and Hermione was reading the Prophet making a face. Ron gave Percy a nod as he came and sat at the table, while Charlie doggedly followed and sat beside him. Mum had made a delicious meal, but it all tasted like sand to him.

“So how has your day been, Percy?” Mum asked.

The table was subdued, which made it all the more loud as Percy’s hand shook with his tea cup.

“Er, fine,” he flinched, putting his teacup on the table with much more force than necessary. He just needed to lie down for a nap and he’d surely feel better.

“You’ve barely eaten, are you alright?”

It felt like everyone's eyes were on him and the room wanted to close in again. Hastily he muttered an excuse before quickly making his way to the bathroom. He took off his glasses, and turned on the sink to splash cool water on his face.

What the hell was wrong with him? What even was a panic attack? It’s not like he was in a battle, or doing anything that took real effort. Why was he so weak? He knew his brothers were right to insist he take the rest of the day off. He was too useless to even have a meal with his family. There was no way he could concentrate on paperwork right now. He’d just have to work the weekend a little longer than usual.

Mind made up, he opened the door to find Charlie. He sitting across from the door, large boots almost touching the side jambs.

“Have a seat,” he said, patting the wooden floor beside him.

Percy wanted to roll his eyes and apparate home, but lack of energy made him trippingly lower himself to the floor beside his hulking brother.

“Been a while since the two of us were sitting like this,” said Charlie.

“Yes. We’re a bit grown to be sitting in the middle of a hallway,” said Percy, his legs uncomfortably splayed before him. His legs were much longer than Charlie’s, and he had to bend them at an odd angle to sit with his legs splayed ahead.

“Your feet didn’t touch the wall then,” Charlie grinned. “We’d sit here all lined up waiting for our turn to use the bath, making sure we got in before the others.”

“Bill would always take the longest,” Percy said with a smile.

“And I would always take the shortest,” Charlie said with a laugh. “You can primp, pee, and brush your teeth anywhere. Plus, perfecting writing my name in the snow helped keep foxes out the hen house.”

“You definitely weren’t relieving yourself outdoors for altruistic reasons, nor would I call an ‘x’ perfecting your ‘penmanship.’”

“How dare you question my virtue! Or my penmanship!”

“Plus, I had the best penmanship of us all” Percy said a wry grin.

“Cheeky bugger! Next Christmas we’ll hold a contest. Didn’t get a chance to put you in your place the last few years.”

“I know… ” Percy grimaced. “I’ll never be able to make up for—”

  
“Not because of that. _I was in Romania_ ,” said Charlie, hitting Percy in the arm. It was meant to be playful, but pain radiated down his arm nonetheless. “Merlin, Perce. You need to lighten up. It’s no wonder you were having a panic attack.” 

Percy bristled and began to get up, but Charlie easily pulled him back into place.

“I wanted to talk to you about that.”

“I don’t have anything to say about it,” muttered Percy.

“Then don’t say anything,” said Charlie, roughly patting his brother with a pie sized hand. “We knew what you were going through in your office. We might not be the best at helping after one, me especially, but you need to know you’re not the only person in the family who has had these.”

“You—?”

“Naw, not me,” he said with a squint, before running a hand through his hair. “Look, if I tell you who it was they’d hate me for it. I can’t do that… But I just wanted you to know you’re not alone. It’s normal—”

“What happened today was anything but normal,” Percy protested.

“Fine, it’s effed up,” Chalie relented, “but a lot of people have been there, including one of your own family.”

Percy couldn’t fathom any of his family being a disgraced blubbering mess on the ground like he had been earlier that day. His drew his knees up to his chest, feeling very useless and small.

“Don’t give yourself grief over it. I’ve helped them before when they had an attack. I can give you some advice, if you like, or a book to read,” Charlie mentioned the book with a bit of a smile. His calloused hand patted Percy’s before he stood up with a grunt. The floorboards seemed to grunt too at his lumbering movement.

Charlie was nearly to the stairs when Percy called out, “I’ll take the book.”

His brother gave a broad smile and continued down the stairs.

Not wanting to face anyone quite yet, Percy took the familiar stairs to his childhood room. Every creak of the stairs sounded the same as it had always had, and every picture frame was housed in the same place it’d lived for over a decade. He daren’t look at the pictures, though. Too many of them had pictures of Fred in them, and it was too painful to see him and George smiling together.

Family reunification. It was ironic he should be in charge of such a task, when he’d done his level best to keep himself away from his own family for years. When he finally reunited with them, his family was torn apart forever by Fred’s death less than an hour later. His family had been mostly whole for less than an hour, all because his stubbornness and pride kept him at bay for three years.  Charlie hadn’t joined the fighting until much later, so technically they weren’t all together in one place for almost four years.

Percy looked about his familiar room, and put a hand on his old desk chair. How many hours had he wasted sitting in that chair cursing his family for being so loud and just having fun? He longed for a familiar bang or smell of gunpowder to waft from the Twin’s too quiet room, but of course, there was no sound at all. With a practiced motion he untied his shoes, took off his tie, and put his glasses on the bedside table. He would sleep, surrounded by the horrible quiet he had always wanted as a child.

Having a good rest left him feeling much recovered as he returned to his office to gather some papers. The normal trudge to his office felt like nothing at all with a good bit of rest behind him. He spied a strange sight in front of him, though. His whole family along with Harry Hermione and Fleur, were standing in front of his door. They were waving in his direction, some of them beckoning him to hurry. What in the world? 

“Come join us!” called his family.

He made to join them when he felt a hand on his arm stopping him. Fred was there, broad and smiling at Percy.

“You can’t think they meant you, mate?”  A charming smile adorned Fred’s face as blood began to pour from his mouth and ears.

“Of course not… Go ahead,” Percy politely answered, standing in place, watching as Fred joined his family, undisturbed as the blood trailed along the floor and started to surge.

“Percy,” came a sweet voice beside him. Audrey was holding the bodies of two children who weren’t moving. “Will you help these two find their parents?”

The children were rotten. Rotten like they’d been in a peat bog. Of course he’d unite them. He just needed to sleep first.

Blood was filling the corridor, but no one minded. It was warm and comforting. He just needed to rest, then he could unite the children with their parents. He’d sleep here in the hallway. There were beds all along it, blood slowly overcoming them. His family were all lying down in the beds, and Audrey was too. It was a peat bog of blood and beds, that had a knocking sound echoing through it.

“Percy?”

Percy woke, disoriented, his stomach made turbid by the bizarre nightmare. It was an all too mundane sensation. He had disturbing dreams a few times a week.

A knock came at the door. Wait, were they knocking a second time? Was that in the dream or real life?

“I’m up,” Percy replied, voice hoarse from sleep.

“We have some supper, if you’d like to come and eat,” came his father’s reply.

“I’ll be down in a moment.”

Percy slowly dressed, cleaning his glasses as he made his way past the family photos. He stumbled a bit down the stairs to see only Mum and Dad downstairs, putting out some serving dishes.

“Charlie left a book for you on the cat, dear,” said Mum, gesturing to the ceramic cat shaped planter in the corner. It was the spot his family always put errant objects that needed to be claimed. “Why he thinks you’d want to know about dragon mating rituals is beyond me!”

“Where are... everyone?” Percy asked, opening the book. The cover was about dragons, but the inside seemed to all be about anxiety and coping with panic attacks. He quickly stowed the tiny book in his pocket.

“Bill and Fleur went home. Charlie’s with them. The rest are down at the quidditch pitch. One of us should send a patronus to get them,” said Mum, getting the silverware.

Percy wasn’t sure he could make one. He didn’t have anything happy enough to conjure more than a whisp, much less a corporeal patronus. Dad looked equally spiritless at the prospect of sending a Patronus. The two of them eyed one another a moment before Dad volunteered to get everyone at the pitch. He didn’t send a patronus; instead he walked down the path to the orchard.

He could have apparaed, but Percy thought it wiser to walk. After the war people avoided any sudden Apparations that might surprise a group. It was a perfect way to get a face full of defensive spells thrown your way, otherwise.

His Mum was at the sink and let out a loud sniff as she filled a pitcher with water.

“Are you alright, Mum?”

“I just shouldn’t have said anything about a Patronus. You father hasn’t made one Patronus since… since…” She shut off the water and wiped at her eyes. “I’m being silly. Don’t mind me.”

Percy quickly cradled his mother as she began to sniffle even harder.

“You’re far from silly, and I’m sure Dad won’t mind,” he said, patting her back. After a few moments she pulled back and put a hand to his cheek.

“My good boy,” she fondly murmured. He hadn’t been called that by her in years. She had a different nickname for each of her children she used when she was most tender with them. It immediately made him feel seven years old again, wrapped in a blanket and getting a batch of her special hot chocolate. “Will you be staying for dinner?”

He knew it would make her happy to say yes, but without Bill Fleur and Charlie there as buffers, Percy wasn’t sure he had the energy to cope with the rest of his family.

“I’m sorry, but I really can’t stay. I missed a lot of work today, and need to get in a bit of time before bed.”

His excuse sounded plausible enough, and he was quickly laden many leftovers, making the walk to the Apparation point a delicate situation. Containers nearly went spilling every few steps. Once home he found it difficult to swallow any leftovers, despite eating little that day. Perhaps he was coming down with something. Sleep and hunger seemed equally elusive that evening, for after hours of readjusting, he couldn’t manage to relax and sleep. Finally he resorted to a dreamless sleeping draught, which had been languishing in his cabinet for an indeterminable time.

The next morning the normally dreary walk to his office left him unsettled. Vague memories of a blood filled hallway made him march past his office like a harpie was on his heels. His office was no respite. He couldn't stop recalling his embarrassing panic attack. With a fumbling hand, he opened the book Charlie had gifted him the night before. He quickly scanned it for tips, finding it had a format that didn’t work well for speed reading. There wasn’t a quick list of do’s and don’ts available, and it made him irked. Instead the book was endless personal anecdotes.

He was about fifteen minutes early, so he supposed it gave him the time to read for a moment. He found one section that had a quiz in it, making him feel better about it. He could take the quiz and be done with it.

_“If you have an abnormal amount of stressful events in your life and don’t know how to cope with them, you are at greater risk of having a panic attack. Look over the Social Readjustment Rating Scale below and see how much stress the life events during the past year have caused you. Please note that when the word ‘change’ is used in this list, it means both positive and negative events.”_

There was a list of events with numerical scores next to them he was supposed to add. Most of them were mundane or didn’t seem to apply, and there were very few about anything as dark as death, let alone war. He ended up with a score of 305.

_“If you score below 150 points on this scale, you have about a one in three chance of serious health change (including panic attacks) in the next two years. [...] between 10 and 300 your chances increase to 50/50. Over 300 points, and your chances are an overwhelming 90 percent — unless you learn some coping skills.”_

Percy began to speed read trying to get some coping skills within the next three minutes, but with a knock on the door the parade of people began to march into his office. He’d have to find coping skills later.

Fate had spared him, to some degree, as this batch of people were far less draining than the day before. He was informing people of alive relatives, portkey approvals, and stamping paperwork for them. No one was dead. Nothing grim had to escape his mouth. Nothing dire fell upon his ears. He was feeling better. Almost normal. The last time he’d felt this way was at lunch with Audrey.

He was set to volunteer with her at the children’s home, but wasn’t sure if he should be more nervous or excited at the prospect. Children weren’t his forte. He was never particularly liked by kids even when he _was_ one. His nerves increased knowing Harry would be there. Ron owled him to say as much, but had left out important details like time of arrival, who else might be there, or what he all he had informed Harry of.

Percy couldn’t blame Ron for not going into details. His younger brother most likely planned to tell him in person at the Burrow, and Percy had made it nigh impossible for that to occur. For some godforsaken reason Percy had added to the situation his ex girlfriend. There were plenty of other people to help her find her niece and nephew- he could have easily given her their contact information.

Despite all this, the image of Audrey’s expectant face brought a sense of calm. He felt ridiculous for being so excited to see her when they barely knew one another. He had plenty of co-workers he’d worked aside, yet she was the only one who made him nervously bite his lip and bounce his knee so hard he spilled his ink.

The rest of the day seemed to fly by, and soon he was at home ready for bed. He quickly flipped through the book, but found it tediously schmaltzy. It was all about thinking positive, having affirmations, being aware of ‘cognitive distortions’, ‘grounding’ oneself and other useless bits of advice. With a roll of his eyes, he placed the book in his desk drawer to return to Charlie.  

If all he had to do was ‘think positive’ Percy was certain he didn’t need that silly anxiety attack book. He was fine today anyways. It was amazing how well he felt, really. Things went well at work. He was getting on with his siblings. He was going to see Audrey. He would get a good night’s sleep easily. Life was great- but nervous energy bounced round in his stomach, and sleep evaded him with every turn.

Around eleven at night he laid out several different outfits, trying to not be so stuffy, as it was the weekend and volunteering with children. Going through his closet, he realized he had few casual options. Most of his clothes were perfect for a business meeting, but few were good for much else. The most casual clothing he had was one of his Weasley jumpers from three years ago. He hadn’t changed much in height or build the last few years, so the jumper seemed to fit well enough. The weather forecast was blissfully cold for July, with rain and cloud cover imminent.

Around one, he then had trouble deciding which book he should bring for the children, if any. Would they have books? Part of him had wanted to send an owl to Audrey to inquire, but it was far too late and he’d look like a lunatic. Many of the children would be muggleborn, so perhaps they would enjoy _The Tales of Beedle the Bard._ Ron had always been fond of Babbity Rabbity when they were young.

Around three he rechecked his alarm for nine thirty, then set another one for nine instead, so he’d have more time to get there. Then he set two more alarms so he couldn’t accidentally sleep through one.

Around four he finally fell asleep.

He woke to the pair of blaring alarm spells, and stumbled his way to the bathroom. He rushed  through his morning ablutions, and nicked himself shaving. He quickly staunched the bleeding with a bit of tissue. He was done so quickly with everything he had far too much time on his hands, not being due for another forty five minutes. Pacing his flat made the minutes drag even longer. He attempted to read, but all the words blurred together as his nerves got worse by the second.

Finally, thirty minutes before he was due, he could take it no longer and apparated to the sign that read ‘Magical Child Welfare Office.’ The sky was light grey, and moisture clung in the air. It would rain any moment.  He bounced on his heels, agitated with himself, for he couldn’t possibly enter the home and not be seen as a conspicuous loser for arriving so early. It would not do to stay there and get drenched. He turned to apparate home, but saw Audrey walking his way in large pair of wellies, both arms filled with large paper bags. Mortification, and something else, fluttered through him as he saw her.

“Percy!” “Pardon!” they each let out in turn.

“I told Obasi you’d be here early,” she said with an arch look.

“I didn’t want to be late. I was going to wait out here a bit so I wouldn’t inconvenience you,” Percy answered lamely, though he warmed to the fact that she’d discussed him.

“Nonsense, I’m glad you came early,” she said, as he took a bag of apples from her. Her radiant smile warmed him.

“Obasi thought it’d be ten minutes early but I thought at least twenty. Now Obasi owes me a knut!”

Percy’s smile fell. Yes, someone as pompous as he would be an object of ridicule to them. The only reason she was happy to see him was due to being a knut richer, and having a warm body to help with things.

“I’m glad my fastidious nature made you a profit, even if it’s small,” he said, hoping his bitterness didn’t show.

“Well, you’re definitely paying off your lunch from the other day,” she said giving him a playful nudge towards the gate. “Though for someone so fastidious, you should be more careful shaving.”

“What?”

She pointed to her own chin and laughed.  Patting his face he found the bloody tissue was still there. It figured. Nothing was going to go right today.

“Let’s get inside before the heavens open up on us,” she smiled, and with little preamble he was scooted along the path towards the cozy home. Only a few children were outdoors, some jumping in puddles, mud splashing in every direction. They gave a chorus of giggles as Audrey spelled them clean, booped each child on the nose, and swept them inside.

Inside was a pure chaos reminiscent of Percy’s youth at the Burrow, only with oodles more children. It was warm and humid, with seemingly every square of carpet taken over by children. Some children were quietly reading in corners, but most of them were loudly playing board games,  running about or making crafts.

“Snack time in ten minutes, everyone, so get to your tables please!” Audrey called over the den in a Wagnerian manner.

“You’ll put cups onto the trays, Percy,” said Audrey, before leaving the room.

“Catch!” said Obasi, throwing an extra tube of paper cups Percy’s way. He fumblingly caught it, and doled the cups onto a nearby tray the little owl-eyed woman conjured for him. They had a large pitcher of juice for him to pour out, and he nearly spilled the thing as one of the children bumped past him. With practiced precision, the other adults opened sleeves of crackers, and quickly spelled some apples into appropriately tiny slices they portioned out in a trice.

Percy glanced around to find Audrey, and saw she was helping a child who had spilled some paint and was loudly crying. She was quite patient as she murmured something to the girl who nodded and stifled her tears with a small smile. It was a delightful tableau to watch, Audrey gently hugging a small child to her like that. She was such a natural with them. The room was frenzied as the children crowded around the tables, but Audrey kept her calm.

Percy’s feeling of contentment fled his body when there was a loud bang that resonated throughout the room. Percy quickly had his wand drawn, and everyone gave a start. One of the kids meekly gave an apology, having accidentally slammed the piano’s lid shut.

Most of the room seemed to ignore Percy, and they continued on as nothing had happened. Percy, however, felt a bit of the jitteriness he had the other day in his office. His chest was beginning to constrict.

“Not here,” he whispered to himself, willing his body to still. His body ossified, all except his trembling hands. What had the book said? Something about coping skills? Thinking positive? But this wasn’t a thought problem! This was physical! He could feel his limbs shutting down, his diaphragm spasming. What was he supposed to do when his heart and lungs were the problem? He was going to collapse in front of everyone, he just knew it.

“Percy?” his head snapped to Audrey, attentively staring at him. His throat couldn’t say anything.

“I was thinking you could read to a group in the sunroom at the back. It’s nice and quiet there. I’m sure you’re not quite used to all this chaos,” she said, leading him to the back room. His feet woodenly followed her, and he was sure his hand was clammy for her to hold.

It was noticeably cooler in the sunroom, and much quieter.

“Mmm, feel that breeze coming in through the window! There’s nothing better than the smell of rain,” she said, taking a big whiff of the air.

He felt himself relax a bit beside her, able to take a shaky breath. Just sitting and breathing the air like this made his hands steady.

“We have a few books in the corner you can choose from. I wish we had more of a selection, but that sort of thing takes a bit of a back seat sometimes.”

Percy nodded, taking in the scent of the rain a few more moments.

“You alright?” asked Audrey quietly. She was still holding his hand. He flexed it and pulled away.

“Yeah… yes. I just have been a bit… Well, I brought a book, actually. My little brothers and sister were always fond of it,” he said, fumbling in his back pocket for his copy of _The Tales of Beedle the Bard._ He handed it to her as he sat down.

“We don’t have that one! I’m sure they’ll love it,” said Audrey, ever enthusiastic. Instead of leaving to gather children, she sat down on the wicker settee beside him, and riffled through her paper sack.

“You ok if I relax out here a bit with you? It’s been a busy morning.”

“Of course,” he smiled.

She found what she was looking for and withdrew a chocolate bar from her bag with a triumphant crow.

“Here, have some,” said Audrey, snapping off a large piece and placing it in his hand.

He nibbled at it as he eyed the book he had brought. They sat in silence for a bit. Usually he’d want to fill the silence with babble or be harriedly doing something, but she was rather pleasant to sit and smell the rain with.

“I have a question,” said Audrey, “and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable with it, but I must ask...”

“It’s fine,” he said, though he was suddenly on edge.

“Back there, when the piano lid slammed, I saw you were a bit off and pointing your wand…” Audrey said, not looking right at him. Studying her hands she continued. “Are you alright to be around big crowds and sudden noises just yet? I know after battles and such, it can be a lot for someone to deal with. I don’t want to throw you into something that would be stressful, but I also can’t have wands being drawn for battle around the kids.”

“I can leave. I’ll leave. I’m sorry,” he said flatly, rising from his chair.

“No, I’m not asking you to—”

“You think I’m a lunatic. It’s fine. I understand.”

“I _don’t_ think—”

“I’ll go. You won’t have to see me again.”

“¡Cállate! Percy, I swear if you walk out of this room, I’m going to kick you in the shins!” she blustered, blocking his path to the door. She was panting and looking very fearsome, despite being almost a foot shorter than he.

“Kick me in the shins?” he asked incredulously.

“Yes!” she answered without hesitation, little fists at her side, and mouth fixed in a pout.

“You have a whole array of spells you could use,” Percy began to snicker, “but shin kicking is your big threat?”

Her face curled up in indignation as he laughed at her.

“It’s— it’s not funny!” said Audrey, but soon she was smiling along with him.

He schooled his face into a much more sober smile.

“Well, we’re clearly at an impasse then. I don’t want to invoke the dreaded Morales shin kick.”

“You better not test me!” Audrey declared before biting her lip. “I _am_ sorry I upset you. I just wanted to make sure you’re ok.”

“You’ve nothing to apologize for,” said Percy. “I overreacted to a very necessary line of questions. If I were in your position I would do the same, and not as delicately I’m sure.”

“I don’t think you’re a lunatic.”

“High praise indeed,” he let out bitterly. He took a breath and paced to the back of the sun room. He knew he wasn’t a pillar of sanity anymore. Percy looked up to her hazel eyes. They were so full of compassion and understanding that he felt words start to tumble out of him of their own accord. “I’m a bit of a maladjusted wreck right now, to be honest. In all likelihood, it would be best that I ward myself off and not enter society until I’m a bit more back to normal.”

“You think you’re the only one who jumps at sudden noises? If we only let problem-free people out and about, there wouldn’t be many left, would there? I’d probably not like any of them anyways. Far too normal for me. I’ll take a maladjusted Percy over a normal one.”

“You really shouldn’t,” he protested.

“I’ve already decided I like you, so it’s settled. You’re staying,” said said with a smile, that quickly faltered. “I mean, I’d _like_ you to stay. I can’t force you to volunteer here if you really don’t want to. I mean, it’s a complete zoo, and if anyone is a lunatic it’s me, so I understand why you’d not want to be here.”

“I want to be here,” he assured her, hoping she could feel his sincerity. She must have, for she gave a hum and squeezed his hand for the second time that day. Maybe it was the chocolate finally kicking in, but Percy felt his chest rise with contentment and calm. Her hazel eyes twinkled at him and he felt a grin begin to take over his face.

“Am I interrupting something?” came the voice of Obasi from the doorway.

“Yes you are!” Audrey said, throwing her chocolate wrapper, which he easily dodged. She kept holding Percy’s hand.

“Kids overheard there would be a story time and are getting restless. Of course, if you’d like me to tell them Miss Audrey and Mr Weasley are too busy making eyes at each other, I can do that,” Obasi teased.

“Shut it,” said Audrey, finally letting go of Percy’s hand. “How ‘bout it, Percy? You up for some story time?”

He lifted his book in confirmation. In minutes a passel of children were gathered at the foot of his chair as he read a few stories. They were particularly interested in _The Tale of the Three Brothers_.  Percy was not a great reader. He couldn’t do voices very well, and lacked the dramatic brio Ron or the twins were able to lend a story, but they seemed enraptured all the same.

“‘ _But though Death searched for the third brother for many years, he was never able to find him. It was only when he had attained a great age that the youngest brother finally took off the Cloak of Invisibility and gave it to his son. And then he greeted Death as an old friend, and went with him gladly, and, equals, they departed this life.’”_

Percy finished the story, and all the kids started talking at once and asking a number of questions. Audrey had said many of the children there were Muggleborn, so it made sense they all had questions.

“Does Death really have a cloak like that?” asked one little girl.

“I don’t know. I’ve never met him,” Percy answered. “But there _are_ invisibility cloaks. They’re rare, but they exist.”

A chorus of awed children started telling him what they’d do if they had a cloak.

“Is there really a wand like in the story?”

“Course there is,” Percy heard from the back of the room. Ron was standing there and got a swat on his arm from Hermione, looking overly ferocious for him telling the children something so benign. Harry and Ginny were standing a bit further back, Harry doing his best to blend in to the wall.

“Everyone thank Mr Percy for reading us such an interesting story,” Audrey instructed the children.

“Thank you, Mister Percy,” they chorused as one, a few giggles breaking out amongst them as they eyed the new guests. Percy knew he was quite boring compared to the others, and was happy to have the attention on them instead of himself. He felt a bit irked when Audrey’s attention went to the quartet, but quickly put his jealousy aside. They’d have plenty of time to talk later. Each of the newcomers brought activities for the children: Hermione had a pile of books in hand, Ron a chess set, and Harry and Ginny each had a broom.

The kids were immediately rather taken with Ron, a few of the little girls poking his scarred arms with delight as they asked him more about the Elder Wand, but Ron was suddenly a bit less vocal about it as Hermione glared at him.

“Wait, Harry Potter?!” one of the older boys cried out, and the chaos of earlier was back ten-fold. All the kids scrambled to see the hero of the the wizarding world. Harry was somehow blanching and smiling at the same time.

Percy was about to check in with the owl-eyed woman when he was stopped by a boy tapping him on the elbow. It was the serious ten year old from the other day, whose little brother was showing so much accidental magic.

“Mr Percy?”

“Maximilian was it?” he asked the boy.

“Yes sir. I- I have a question,” he said, looking about to make sure they had privacy.

“Ask away.” Percy had always rather enjoy answering questions. It was the only thing he truly thought he was good at. He was not fun, charming or handsome, but he’d always been knowledgeable.

“Sir, if invisibility cloaks exist, then do Elder Wands and Talk to Dead People Stones exist too? Could that stone in the story actually be real?” he asked, staring intensely at Percy

“Well, I can not claim I know with all certainty the Wand and Stone don’t exist. Anything is possible really… But in all honesty, I don’t think they do. It’s an interesting children’s book story, though,” said Percy, looking down at the little boy whose face became crestfallen.

“Oh… I thought… Well if maybe I could find one I could use a stone to talk to my parents,” the boy muttered, more to his shoes than to Percy. The owl-eyed woman had said Maximilian and his brother had been through something bad, but Percy hadn’t stopped to think what that meant. Percy put a hand on the boy’s shoulder and lowered his voice.

“If I had a Resurrection Stone, I’d use it to talk to my brother.”

“Is there a way to talk to the dead, you think?“ whispered Maximilian.

“Not where they talk back. Some people think the dead can hear us, or watch over us, though.”

“Do you think that?”

Percy wasn’t sure what he should say to this.. Truthfully, he didn’t know if the dead could hear or watch over them. He didn’t want to dash the hopes of a child though. He was torn when an idea struck him.

“Are you Muggleborn?”

Maximilian nodded.

“Did you know that ghosts exist?”

He shook his head, eyes wide.

“They do. At Hogwarts there are so many of them, walking right down the corridors/ We have a ghost named Nearly Headless Nick., who’s actually rather nice to talk to. I asked him once about the afterlife: what is was like, if the dead could hear us, was heaven real...”

“What did he say?” the boy asked, watching Percy almost hungrily.

“Nick said he didn’t know. He had been afraid of death, you see, so he became a ghost without ever going to the afterlife at all.”

“Could my parents be ghosts?”

“Only wizards can become ghosts— but Nick didn’t seem very happy to be a ghost. He seemed to be saying brave people don’t choose to be ghosts. They choose something different.”

“What’s the ‘something different?’”

“Even a ghost of Hogwarts didn’t know that. But if a dead person has time to choose to be a ghost or not, then there must be _something_ in the afterlife, right?” asked Percy. The boy nodded.

“Is your brother a ghost?”

“No,” Percy answered with certainty. “He wasn’t afraid of anything.”

“My parents were brave. They hid me and my brother from the Deadeaters,” said Maximilian. Percy kept his instincts to correct the boy at bay. “But can they hear us, you think?”

“I don’t know if they can hear us or not,” said Percy, wishing he had a real answer for the little boy. The best he could do was try to impart something of hope instead of just more sad non-answers.

“I _like_ to think they hear and watch over us. The story made a good point— We can’t be like the second brother who only wanted to talk to the dead. It’s better to connect with the living and enjoy life. If the dead _can_ watch us, we should probably give them something good to watch.”

“Do you give your brother something good to watch?”

The question gave Percy a start. He knew the answer to that was no. He was barely able to just eat dinner and go to bed at the end of his work day. He lived a boring existence long before his brother passed, but it all seemed more hallow now.

“I could do better,” Percy answered tightly. “Now, why don’t you go on and meet Harry Potter and all his friends. You’ll like them a whole lot more than a fuddy duddy like me. Get your little brother and play some fun games with him. Have all the fun with him you can.”

Maximillian nodded, looking around for his brother.

“Ok. Thank you, Mr Percy.”

With that the boy went off like it was nothing, with the resilience only a child could show. Percy wished he could rebound from a conversation about death so quickly, but instead felt miserably close to crying.

“I like to think they watch over us too.” He looked up and saw Audrey softly smiling at him. If he was going to give his brother something good to watch, he couldn’t imagine a better person to help him. He’d happily have picnics, feel the cool rainkissed air, and get kicked in the shins by her any day.


End file.
